In Praise of the First Amendment

The last piece of the library gets delivered today, a third bookcase. Then Pam and I will have a blast shopping at Hobby Lobby for all of the incumbent nicnackery required to give the room that finished look. I love that store. For not a whole lot of money, you can buy something that looks like it could have been salvaged from an antiques barn in Vermont, when in fact it was slapped together in some Taiwanese sweatshop two weeks ago. Nothing quite says  Early-Americana like a pair of wood grained plastic bald eagle bookends manufactured by Asian adolescents. But, such is the brave new world of global free trade.

Yesterday, I posted a couple of very irreverent photos/cartoons lampooning several Presidential candidates. I include them here for those of you who may not have seen them yesterday:

It's Paula Trump ya'll!!

Grandma, Grandpa...stop it!!

It occurs to me what a privilege it is to do this. How great is it that we live in a country where we are allowed to take cheap shots at those who presume to lead us? How wonderful is it to have First Amendment protections? How glorious a thing is free expression? Whenever I see something on Facebook ripping someone on my side over some hypocritical thing or another, I think to myself...that's actually pretty funny, and great. Of course the stuff ripping the other side seems even funnier and greater to me, but that's as it should be. The point is, for most of recorded history, Kings, princes and lesser petty tyrants took a very dim view of this sort of thing, and anyone caught making wisecracks about leaders met with a bloody and violent end. The Tower of London stands as the ultimate political oppression museum, a poignant reminder of what political life was like for 99% of human beings that have ever lived on this planet.

But not us. Thanks to an admittedly flawed collection of white men from the 18th century, we have the U.S. Constitution, and thanks to James Madison's bull-headed insistence on a Bill of Rights, I sit here at my desk spewing out opinionated venom at any politician who pisses me off.

God Bless America

My New Library

My new library furniture came yesterday, everything except the desk chair which had to be back ordered and won't be here until March, and one more bookcase which we didn't know we wanted until they put these two together. I couldn't be happier about how it all turned out. It's beautiful. I feel smarter just sitting here! Lucy isn't exactly thrilled. She tiptoes around, sniffing mightily, annoyed that the chairs aren't big enough for me and her. The first thing Pam did was rip down the window curtains because they didn't match the rug. I didn't even know that matching curtains with rugs was a thing.

Writing my first blog at this desk feels weird...like I should write something intelligent this time, with no fart jokes, and better grammar. We'll see.

I lost a cousin yesterday. John "Bubby" Dixon died after a long illness. He was a legend in my Mother's family. His father, my Mother's brother, was a tank driver in Patton's army during WWII. Bubby was awarded multiple Purple Hearts for his combat services during the Vietnam war. He was older than me, closer in age to my brother Donnie, who drove down from Maryland yesterday to be at his side. We weren't close, the Dixon's stayed in Nelson County, while the Dunnevants moved away. My most searing memory of him was when I was 8 years old at my Grandmothers funeral. She had been killed in a head on collision with a vehicle driven...by Bubby. He was devastated, distraught beyond description. For an 8 year old, it created an unforgettable image. Soon after that experience, he signed on to fight the Vietcong. Now he's gone. Donnie called last night with the news, his voice cracking with emotion. I regretted not going to see him...he was part of my Mother. I should have been there.

I have three more days of eating left before my Super Bowl fast. 

This jug seems to grow larger and more menacing with each passing day. On Sunday morning, I will fill it with lukewarm water and empty the handy lemon flavor pack into the mix. Between 5:00 and 10:00 pm I will need to somehow drink the entire gallon. This, after a day of eating nothing but jello and Popsicles. Seriously? We can put a man on the moon, but this is the best we can do in the gastrointestinal sciences? I read somewhere that some people throw a little vodka into the mix. Intriguing. But I want to be in full command of my facilities when this stuff kicks in...nothing would be worse than a stumble and fall on your way to the toilet!

Oh, great! My first library inspired blog, and I end up using the word toilet!! You can dress a guy up...but you can't take him anywhere!

My Weekend and a Movie Review

Spent this past weekend in beautiful Columbia, South Carolina visiting my daughter and her husband and their giant clown of a dog, Jackson Fitzgerald Manchester:

He is everything that our Lucy is not, afraid of nothing, a lumbering mass of fur and slobbering kisses, and about the most loving creature you'll ever meet. For now, Jackie-Jack is the closest thing we have to a grandchild, so I feel some primal urge to bore you with the above two pictures.

While we were there, we watched The Martian. Pam had wanted to watch it during last week's snowstorm, but I refused. I was suffering from acute cabin fever as it was, so there was no way I was going to make it worse by watching Matt Damon trapped on an entire planet by himself. Besides, I've never been much of a science geek. I mean, science is great, I benefit from its pursuit and all, but I've always been uncomfortable around its biggest fans. Something inside me is annoyed by the smug assurance of the science crowd, their presumption that everything can be explained by science, that anything that won't succumb to their calculations is nothing more than charming myth. Of course, that's just me. Everyone else in the world these days seems in awe of science and scientists.

So, I hadn't particularly wanted to see this movie. Many of the reviews were all about the mastery of science, the power of the mind of man unleashed on even the most intractable problems producing triumph after triumph. I half expected the film to have an intermission where a white-coated scientist comes out on stage and lectures the audience about global warming. But then, I actually watched the thing. Wow.

Yes, everyone involved in this story is super smart. The brain power called forth to keep a man alive on an inhospitable planet 125 million miles from Earth, is truly an awe-inspiring thing to behold. But what I took away from the movie wasn't the infinite capacity of the mind of man to solve problems. The hero of the movie wasn't science so much as ....work.

We see Matt Damon's character hauling wheelbarrows full of Martian soil for hours on end. We watch him using power tools of every description, we see him tending to his potatoe garden with the back breaking skill of a farmer. At every turn he works. Grinding, physical labor is his life, because his life depends upon it. Yes, his scientific training as a world class botanist is on display, and it is quite impressive. But what makes it all work...is work.

I remember one time my Dad telling me that there wasn't any such thing as work that was "beneath you." If it was important enough for somebody to do, then it was important enough for you to do. He would usually launch into this speech when I was spreading cow manure in the garden. I suppose I took him at his word since my first paying job was mucking horse stalls at the State Fair of Virginia.

Anyway, The Martian was a fine film, worth the nearly two and a half hours it took to watch the thing. It was about the triumph of the entire human spirit, everything that makes us who we are...our mind and it's limitless capacity to solve problems and the miracles that come when we couple intellect with hard work.

Iowa Observations

So, maybe Donald Trump isn't invincible after all. Ted Cruz went into Iowa, came out against the most sacred cow of all times-the ethanol subsidy gravy train- and WON. If Marco Rubio had had one more day he would have knocked Trump out of second place. Amazing. I'm thinking that Donald Trump's Twitter feed is going to be the center of the middle school universe over the next several days.

On the Democrat side, it was like kissing your sister...a tie. Really?? Of course, Hillary declared victory. Bernie was having none of it, thrusting his tight fist into the air in front of his frenzied supporters, looking for all the world like what Che Guevara might have looked like had he survived into old age.

Poor Jim Gilmore. He's having a difficult time connecting to voters. By difficult I mean...impossible. The one person in all of Iowa who stood up at a caucus site in support of the former Virginia governor won the night with this great line..."slow and steady wins the race...and nobody has had a slower start than Jim Gilmore!"

Well, as a Virginian, it's high time that I stepped up and came to his defense. Might I suggest a few campaign slogans for the Gilmore team?

# Expect Less

# Charisma is Overrated

# Time For a President We Can All Forget

# It's Time For Millard Filmore's Second Term

# Hope. Change, and a really cheap suit.

On to New Hampshire!!

How I Would Vote if I were an Iowan.

If I were an active, engaged citizen of Iowa, I would have a very difficult decision to make. How to vote?

That's right, I said how to vote. This early in the Presidential nominating process, its more about how than who. Let me explain.

If I were a Democrat, the choice would be...do I want to finally reward Hillary for paying her dues, putting up with all of Bill's philandering all these years? Do, I want to make it up to her for leaving her in the lurch for Barack back in 2008? Or do I want to go with my heart and reward the only guy in my lifetime who has run for the highest office in the land as a Democrat who had the guts to admit his Socialism?

If I were a Republican, the decision would be harder. Do I vote for who I believe would make the best President, or do I vote for the candidate who I believe stands the best chance to defeat Trump? Here's how that process would work for me:

First, I would eliminate everyone from the lower tier of candidates who have zero chance of winning.

Goodbye Huckabee, Santorum, and Gilmore.

Then I would nix all those candidates who just rub me the wrong way. Its not their fault really, its just something weird about them that I can't quite get passed...nothing personal.

Goodbye Jeb Bush and John Kascich.

I think that leaves me with five alternatives to the Donald. At this point, I will temporarily eliminate Ted Cruz in favor of the four candidates who I believe would actually make decent Presidents. All of them have flaws, none of them are perfect. But as I trudge through the snow storm, through the corn field to the Caucus site, I remind myself that the choice I have to make very much requires me to not let the perfect be the enemy of the good. I must balance the good against the bad to make the best out of what are my available alternatives. Therefore, I reason thusly...

Rand Paul. The only candidate from either party who seems totally committed to smaller government.

Carly Fiorina. She has actual business acumen, rather than the inherited kind. I like her intelligence.

Chris Christie. Tough gig, being a Republican governor of a state like Jersey. Like his style and the way he handles himself in a debate.

Marco Rubio. Like his youth, vigor, and intelligence. LOVE his back story and how his deep love and appreciation for this country always shines through.

Of these four, today, Feb. 1st, 2016, as an Iowan who is voting for who I think would ultimately make the best President, I would go with Marco Rubio.

But, if my primary motivation was doing whatever I had to do to end the Trumpian nightmare, on this night...I would vote for Ted Cruz. He seems best positioned to win...tonight.

I'll deal with the potential Ted Cruz nightmare later!

February 7th. the Toilet Bowl...

If I were tasked with coming up with a list of the all-time worst opening sentences for a blog, this would surely be at or near the top:

".......Today I had an appointment with a Gastorintestinal Specialist."

So, I apologize in advance for what follows. Yes, it's true, I did have an appointment with a Gastrointestinal Specialist, a Dr. William Brand, or GI Bill, for short. Nice guy. Knowledgable and pleasant, in a Dr. Rodgers sort of way. I found that he spent a lot of time finishing my sentences for me, as if he knew that the subject at hand was difficult to talk about, so part of his job was helping me talk through the gross parts...and all of it are the gross parts. But GI Bill got me through it with my dignity intact. 

GI Bill stressed the importance of scheduling a colonoscopy as soon as possible. I agreed and promised to sit down with his scheduler on my way out. Before I knew what was happening, I had a 6:30 AM appointment penciled in for Monday the 8th of February, compete with explicit instructions of what I needed to do in the 24 hours prior to my big day. From daybreak on Sunday morning, the 7th, I am to have an all-liquid diet consisting of water, coffee, jello, Popsicles, chicken broth and the like. At 5 pm on Sunday, I am to start drinking one 8oz. glass of PEG 3350 every 15 minutes until half of the gallon jug is gone. I was assured by GI Bill that the lemon flavoring that comes with the concoction makes the experience, "not nearly as horrible as it used to be." I thought of the great line from Julius Caesar, " damning with faint praise..."

Then the instructions take a sudden, darker turn with this beauty..."at 10pm, resume drinking one 8oz. glass every 15 minutes until the gallon container is empty...if you experience nausea, slow your intake! No way! If I start experiencing nausea, I'm gonna pound the rest of the jug all at once!! Morons...

As disconcerting as all of this was, I had made my peace with the inevitable when I got back to the office and called Pam to fill her in on the plan. It was then when she reminded me that my appointment was Monday, Feb. 8th. The day after the Super Bowl!! That's right, sports fans, my 24 hours of all liquid hell will be taking place on one of the most delicious days of the year. While the rest of you will be throwing back nachos, pizza, Italian sandwiches, meatballs, bacon, cheese, bratwurst, hot sausages,  and washing it all down with beer, I'll be chowing down on six different flavors of jello. About the time all of you will be enjoying the Super Bowl...Ill be getting intimately acquainted with the Toilet Bowl!

But, GI Bill assures me that this procedure can't wait until the Spring. No no...it must be done right away. So, looks like I'll be having an all liquid diet Super Bowl experience.

That's just how I roll.

Falwell Endorses Trump?

Alright kids, the 2016 Presidential election has now entered the Twilight Zone. I mean, it's been weird for quite a while already, but today the weirdness quotient went through the roof. The President of Liberty University, Jerry Falwell Jr. endorsed Donald Trump for President of the United States of America.

That's the rough equivalent of saying something like, "Billy Graham announced today from his deathbed that back in 1955 he had an inappropriate relationship with Fidel Castro," or "Famous leftist actor Sean Penn today gave his enthusiastic endorsement to Mike Huckabee's candidacy."

Ok, Liberty University is the largest Christian University in the Cosmos. It's core mission is to provide quality education to young skulls full of mush with a biblical worldview. That particular perspective takes a dim view of stuff like divorce, and abortion, vices like gambling and pornography, and encourages it's students to askew the lure of money and materialism as the be all and end all of life. So...the school's President comes out with a full-throated endorsement of a man who is on his third wife, has been pro-choice all of his natural life, has made his living building casinos, and has carefully crafted for himself an unparalleled reputation as the very definition of materialistic excess. Wait...what?

Now listen, I understand that Christians can disagree when it comes to politics. Heck, I disagree with my own kids about politics all the time, so I get it. And I also know, that when we as citizens enter the voting booth, we are not electing a Sunday School teacher. We often have to make a pragmatic choice between two flawed candidates, neither of whom we would want anywhere near a Sunday School class. Many times it comes down to...who will do the least harm?

But, as a Christian, a man's character has to enter into the calculus, does it not? The things that this man has said over the past six months of this campaign have been staggering. How can someone who claims to live by Christian principles fail to hear the thinly veiled racism in his remarks about Mexicans? Shouldn't any self-respecting Christian cringe when they hear a candidate for the Presidency mocking the disabled? What should go through the mind of a Christian father and husband when they hear Mr. Trump talking about how smoking hot his daughter is and how if he were a little younger and, you know, NOT HER DAD, maybe he would date her? More importantly, how should someone like Jerry Falwell Jr. feel when he hears a man who has been a party to two failed marriages and four bankruptcies say that he can't ever remember asking God for forgiveness for anything since he doesn't think he's ever done anything that required it?

One more thing that bothers me about not only the Falwell endorsement, but the many other evangelical leaders who have warmed to Trump...since when did "Making America Great Again" become a project of Christianity? Don't misunderstand me, I love my country, and like any other American, I want it to be better. But the primary focus of the Christian faith is not to make America better, it's to make people better, by introducing them to the person and teachings of Jesus Christ. Hopefully, properly discipled Christians will become better people, more caring, more courageous and  better citizens. But if Making America Great involves chasing after some nationalistic renewal built upon hatred, envy and ego, then count me out.

Sure, when I vote, I try to elect people who share my spiritual ethics. Sometimes it's easier than others. But generally speaking, I don't go out of my way to vote for someone who's entire life has been a living, breathing rebuke to biblical Christianity. Especially when there are still so many other alternatives from which to pick.

So, when I see someone as influential as Jerry Falwell Jr. endorsing Donald Trump, I wonder...how much money did the Trumpster promise Liberty University?