Hillary Clinton for President?

So, now it's Hillary Clinton's turn.

I find it quite ironic that she should choose to announce her candidacy on the very day that Pam and I watched the last two episodes of House of Cards. In them Claire Underwood, after spending thirty years in a calculated political marriage whose sole purpose was the acquisition of power, suddenly discovers that the Oval Office only has one chair...and she is none too happy about it. In the final scene of season three Claire does something that Hillary never had the stones to do...she leaves her husband.

I say all of this because I find House of Cards to be a rather thinly veiled biography( or hack job ) of the Clintons. Bill and Frank are both southern Democrats with tons of charm and few scruples. Claire and Hillary are both publically devoted and subservient to their husbands, but privately, equally duplicitous co-conspirators. The series is a monument to the ugliness of pride and arrogance and the spawn of those two vices...entitlement.

So, now the smartest woman in the world will run for President for the second time, and like the first she will enter the race as the prohibitive favorite. When she couldn't win in 2008, when she couldn't beat a nobody first-term senator from Illinois, with the thinnest resume since Kim Khardashian, I thought she was finished. But, here we are eight years later and she is the front runner...again. I suppose you should never count out the wife of Bill Clinton.

A quick review of strengths and weaknesses.

Strengths:

Experience. She has been close to the levers of power in this country for the better part of twenty years now. That counts for something.

Fund Raising. With the help of Bill, she has demonstrated an unprecedented ability to raise millions of dollars. The Clinton Foundation has shaken down not only every entity in the United States that hopes to get anything done in Washington, but foreign countries with the same objective. 

Symbolism. Hillary has the same advantage as the current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. She is a symbol, a totem, the ultimate aggrieved minority, the latest "first." She would be the first female President, smasher of the ultimate glass ceiling. For an awful lot of people, men and women, this will be enough.

Weaknesses:

Accomplishments. Ask any Hillary supporter to sight five things that she has accomplished in her years of public service and you will hear a lot of stumbling and stuttering that usually ends with something about raising consciousness about some such thing or another. She was First Lady for eight years, and totally botched the only big job she was ever given, 1994's Hillary-Care fiasco. She was a carpet-bagger in reverse US senator from New York where she did less than nothing. Her years as Secretary of State have accomplished  the amazing feet of managing to make John Kerry look competent. 

And yet, here she is again, poised to make history. She leads in the polls practically everywhere and against practically everyone. If elected, she will give us the first "First Man," Bill Clinton. That alone might be reason enough to elect her. The First Rogue will be the single greatest thing to happen to late night comedians since Dan Qualyle.

The Most Dangerous Drive in America

What's the most dangerous drive in America? The first answer that pops into my mind is interstate 95 from Richmond to Portland, Maine. Having driven it over thirty times in my life, I can attest to its white-knuckled, edge of your seat qualities. But, an equally compelling case can be made for the beltway around our nation's capital, or rush hour in Atlanta or Los Angeles. However, I have come to the conclusion that the most dangerous place to be in a car is in the parking lot of a big box hardware store on a Saturday morning, anywhere in America.

Yesterday was a beautiful sunny day here in Short Pump after a week of dismal cloudiness. Lowe's hardware was the place to be for every handyman homeowner on a mission. And that's the thing...make no mistake, when we homeowners find ourselves with a sunny Saturday on our hands, we most definitely are on a mission. We are going to finish that project today even if it kills us, and the way we sling our cars around in the parking lot, getting killed seems like a reasonable expectation. See, it's only ten o'clock but we are already behind schedule. Who knew we were out of Tiki fuel? And, we could have sworn we had plenty of that mold and mildew remover that you hook the water hose to and spray on the front steps to remove that gross black stuff. But nooooo, somebody threw it away!!

Anyway, there I was yesterday picking up a few mission-essentials at the hardware store. Upon completing my purchase, I walked through the parking lot towards my car when the peaceful calm of suburbia was interrupted by the loud screech of tires, an angry horn and a stream of profanity. Some knucklehead had backed out of his space in too big of a hurry and had nearly impaled a senior citizen with an opened box of aluminum siding sticking way too far out of the back of his truck. Meanwhile, a woman in a Suburban had almost hit them both while talking on her cell phone and driving entirely too fast. Incidentally, why is it that when women use the F bomb, it sounds so much more lethal? This was near death experience number one, and I was still fifty yards from my car.

Then I saw a late model Ford Taurus with several sheets of plywood on its roof precariously secured with a few bungee chords and the driver's left hand. This sort of vehicle always warrants special attention in a hardware store parking lot, since these guys are always in a huge ball-crushing rush. Sure enough, Pedro had miscalculated the size, weight and displacement of his load and as soon as he made the first big turn, the plywood began to shift, snapping the bungee chords and slinging across the asphalt towards an incoming Tahoe. Again, profanities were exchanged.

At this point, I'm thinking of the old saw about how bad things come in threes. I get in my car determined to drive as defensively as possible. I check my mirrors, adjust my seat belt and say a quick prayer, "Lord, if you get me out of this parking lot alive, I swear I won't ever complain about how boring church is ever again...this month!"

I ease the CTS out of my space, and make my way slowly, very slowly towards the stop sign in the distance, when suddenly some guy driving a Volvo stuffed full of flowering plants obscuring his vision backs out of his space within a foot of my front bumper! I stand on the horn and scream out my own brand of anger, which if I recall went something like this, " WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE??? HOLY CRAP, IS EVERYONE IN THIS PARKING LOT ON FREAKING DRUGS??!!"

All of this for a couple of bottles of that mold and mildew remover stuff that hooks onto your water hose so you can spray it on the front steps to remove that gross black stuff.

First world problems.

Truly Horrible Eye Puns, and the Rand Paul Campaign

Yesterday I published a blog about Rand Paul's candidacy. I noted the fact that instead of being a garden variety lawyer, the senator was and is an ophthalmologist. Today, in anticipation of what surely will be a parade of horrible EYE PUNS over the next 19 months, I thought that I would get ahead of the curve and offer a few of my own:

1. Rand Paul, ophthalmologist, certainly has his eye on the White House.

2. Rand Paul, ophthalmologist, offers a unique libertarian vision.

3. Rand Paul potential campaign slogan...eyes on the prize.

4. Rand Paul, ophthalmologist, brings intense focus on NSA.

5. Rand Paul, ophthalmologist, brings farsighted approach to foreign policy.

6. If it were discovered that Rand Paul, ophthalmologist, was once a communist sympathizer, would his opponents call him a ....pink eye?

7. Does Rand Paul's vision for America need contacts?

8. Rand Paul, ophthalmologist, to appear on ABC's 20/20.

9. Rand Paul, straight-talking libertarian ophthalmologist, demonstrates  steely-eyed resolve.

10. Does Rand Paul, ophthalmologist, have a blind spot for the poor?

Please feel free to offer your own pun to this list. Then we can all sit back and count how many of these will be used by the media during the coming campaign.

Rand Paul for President?

Rand Paul is now an official candidate for President, making him the second Republican to announce his intentions. The Kentucky Senator and former ophthalmologist is one interesting dude. There's a lot to like and a lot to wonder about with Paul. Here's my take.

There are some things about him that I love. First, he's the first National Republican who seems to care about the outrageous mission-creep over at the NSA. Paul is rightly concerned about an agency of our government which has the power and apparently the inclination to spy on every American citizen. Section 215 of the Patriot Act is a ridiculously broadly written mistake that is allowing this unprecedented intrusion into our privacy and the Senator has pledged to do away with it. Good.

I also like his willingness to publicly question the long standing Republican view that it is America's job, and America's only, to be the world's policeman. He rightly asks why it is that America' military is still in Germany, Japan and Korea decades after those wars. Why exactly are the American taxpayers paying for the defense of three of our largest and most capable economic rivals?

The Senator's work on criminal justice reform has also been stellar. Mandatory minimum sentencing by any measure you choose has been an abject failure and it's time someone said so and got busy changing the policy. Cudos to him and Rick Perry in this regard. Rand Paul, in my view is the one candidate who seems the most serious and committed to restraining the growth of government. His concept of Liberty and his distrust of the power of government will serve him well in the White House.

The objections I have with him is that he seems to be a bit of a hot head. This is the temperament issue that I think is perhaps the most overlooked qualification for the office of the Presidency. Watching him interact with reporters can be worrisome. He seems prickly, too dismissive and more than a bit rude. Granted, most of the reporters he deals with hate him because he's not a liberal democrat, but that comes with the territory, and he must learn to deal with them more effectively. Although he's not as cranky as his famous father, he does give off a whiff of instability at times.

Also, to be taken seriously as a Presidential candidate, he has had to modify some of his prior positions on issues like abortion and even foreign policy, not unlike every other candidate who ever lived. These policy changes however seem all over the map, especially his views on Iran. Expediency may be a wise political move, but in Paul's case it seems more drastic. How do you go from saying that Iran is a small country that poses no threat to American interests to sounding the alarm about Obama's Iran deal as a flawed and dangerous appeasement? Surely, he isn't the first or only candidate  to commit such flip-flops, but for so eloquent a speaker about America's misadventures abroad to do such a 180 seems particularly slimy.

Still, I like his instincts. I agree with his more libertarian impulses. Let's see how he does.

A Cautionary Tale

Twenty five years ago I was introduced to one of the most charismatic men I had ever seen. He was older than I was, more successful, more confident, even cockier than me. He had a beautiful wife, beautiful children and lived in a gorgeous house in an exclusive neighborhood. In short, he was practically everything that a young, struggling guy like me wanted to be.

Not only was the guy a wildly successful businessman, he was also something of a motivational speaker. Pam and I heard him speak a couple of times and loved it. I was quite mesmerized. Although we never became close friends, he remained for years someone who I held in high regard.

Then, the bloom began to come off of the rose. I began to notice an arrogance in him, a fondness for the spotlight, and most disturbing to me…an unsettling tendency towards business shortcuts. Suddenly, his company transferred him, and just as fast as he had burst onto the scene of my life, he was gone. I’ve never seen or heard from him since.

With the advent of social media, old friends never truly disappear. So over a decade later I learned of his divorce. The man with the perfect marriage, perfect wife and perfect children had left his wife. Part of me was profoundly disappointed, even grieved that a marriage that I had exalted so high in my imagination was over. The cynical side of me wasn’t surprised. Of course it was too good to be true. No couple could possibly be that deliriously happy all of the time, of course.

Now, I learn an even darker truth. I am stunned by the news. How could it have gone so wrong? How could I not have picked up on the epic level of his hypocrisy? I normally pride myself on being able to detect phoniness. My BS detector doesn’t usually fail me. Maybe as a 28 year old man, I wanted it to be true so bad that I was blinded. I wanted desperately to believe that his happy, prosperous life was attainable. In my mind, I had placed him in a trophy case as proof positive that living a Godly life in this world would bring with it rewards in the here and now, not just the hereafter.

Of course, as a 28 year old man, the sum total of things that I didn’t know would have filled an encyclopedia. I should never have exalted another human being in that way. We are all sinners, capable of anything. Still, I think about all the twenty year olds out there who look to me as an example of what they want to be. They too want a successful career, a nice house, a beautiful wife. I suddenly feel the heat of that spotlight.  I feel a heavy burden to never disappoint them the way he disappointed me. If I succeed it will be because of God’s grace.

Easter Weekend in Nashville

My Nashville weekend is over. We made it back safe and sound after spending a total of 19 hours in route and wracking up over 1300 miles on the CTS. Was it worth it, you ask? You decide.

We arrived at our hotel in Brentwood around 4 in the afternoon on Friday. This gave us some time to freshen up a bit. Patrick left his office downtown amidst a tornado alert to make the twenty minute drive to our hotel. We hadn't seen him since Christmas. He looked good and talked a mile a minute all through my birthday dinner at Mere Bulles, a fancy plantation style restaurant just a few minutes away. The best she-crab soup I've ever tasted. Everything else was just ok.

After dinner, back at the hotel, I opened my birthday presents and got caught up on all the latest news in my son's life. Great night.

Saturday, we drove to Patrick's rental house, which I had never seen. I expected it to be a dump, but it was actually nice. Since Pam had planned to cook a big Easter dinner for us all on Sunday, a grocery list had been made, and we spent the morning getting everything at the local Publix grocery store. Then we drove into downtown Nashville for a surprise 65th birthday party for Deen Entsminger at the Flying Saucer, the coolest, classiest bar in town. This was where we were to meet Patrick's girlfriend. We were a little nervous. Suppose we didn't like her? Suppose we found out that her three favorite things in the world were Kim Khardashian, hip hop and soccer? Well, it turned out that I had nothing to be worried about. Sarah was wonderful, charming, adorable and confident. Turns out that my boy is an excellent judge of character.

That evening, we attended the Great Easter Vigil at the Christ Church Cathedral Episcopal church. This is Patrick's favorite church, one that he had attended every single day for all of Easter week. He was clearly into the music, the high church formality and the ancient liturgy. To tell you the truth, I don't know what to make of it. There were parts of the service that were moving, beautifully reverent, even touching. There's something captivating about the ancient rituals, the words and phrases, identical to ones used in Easter services for countless generations of Christians through the ages. Interestingly enough, except for the infant baptism that was part of the nearly three hour service, I heard nothing that I found theologically questionable. I heard beautiful music, I heard scripture read, enough to fill a 25 page program. I heard a ten minute homily that was perfectly fine and appropriate for the occasion. Still, for three hours I never heard anything personal. It was as if everyone in robes was a symbol of something, not the thing itself. The entire service seemed devoid of emotion. There wasn't one single spontaneous moment. Literally every word spoken had first been written and inserted into the airtight program from which there was no deviation. This may just be my faith tradition blinding me from being able to fully appreciate another. But the thing is, I did enjoy parts of it, even loved parts of it. I could do without the priests singing every other sentence and honestly, I could do without all the incense.

The Sunday service was much shorter, and the lights were on, which made it seem less medieval. The music was phenomenal. I must admit that I have probably never seen a better dressed crowd. I saw more seersucker suits than I would have seen at a Matlock convention. And the hats...some of these woman would have given those British woman at the royal wedding a run for their money. The program was only 13 pages, and we actually knew one of the hymns! It was a beautiful service.

Then we all made it back to Patrick's house and Pam started working on dinner. By 6 that night it was ready. She served a honey ham that she had cooked all afternoon in a crock pot, glazed with orange marmalade, Dijon mustard and brown sugar. There was homemade Mac and cheese, green beans, a glazed walnut and pear salad with poppy seed dressing and goat cheese and a strawberry pie for dessert. Patrick and his two wonderful roommates were delighted at such a feast being placed in front of them, even more thankful for the refrigerator full of leftovers!

So...that was my weekend.

Oh yeah, I've decided not to share the details of our near death experiences as passengers in Sarah's car in downtown Nashville on Saturday night. She doesn't know me all that well yet, and I wouldn't want to give her the impression that I'm the sort of person who might take something embarrassing about her and then make a huge overblown deal out of it just to get a few laughs. Maybe later.

An Episcopal Easter

Pam and I have experienced Easter in the Episcopal church this weekend. Last night, was a 2 and a half hour service that featured communion and baptism, lots of fire and 18 inch candles in the hands of every member of the congregation. Today, on Easter Sunday, the service will be shorter, I'm told. I'll have more to say on the experience later. It was fascinating in many ways, and about as different from the Baptist tradition as humanly and spiritually possible. I had to get up and walk around outside a couple of times, and when we left, there was still about 15 minutes to go. I know this because every single word that was spoken was written down in the thick 20 page program entitled, "The Great Vigil of Easter." 

Today is gorgeous and sunny and will feature my wife and son making a full Easter Sunday dinner in Patrick's kitchen. 

And yes, we did meet the girlfriend. She was a delight, adorable in every way. She also nearly got us all killed twice in Nashville traffic. Read tomorrow's blog for all the thrilling details.

Christ is risen.