Archive for September, 2008
I think it’s about time we had a person of some actual, no kidding life experience running for high office.
That’s pretty much it. I doubt that I’d have this same opinion if the person I were referring to were a Democrat, but my experience is that most people who live in the same world I do are not Democrats, at least not in the modern sense. Most of them, whatever their opinions on abortion or capital punishment, tend to be people of sense that understand the necessity of protecting real people from government. Sarah Palin strikes me – and strikes most people, apparently – as a person that gets it. She is like us.
This presents a twofold problem for the Left. First, they don’t understand her. The usual methods of attack – distortions of the voting record (not unique to either side), jibes about being rich and out of touch, hostile to women, etc. – do not work on her. She is proof against all those. The only attack with any teeth so far has been on the subject of lack of experience, with which there are enormous problems given the Democratic PRESIDENTIAL nominee. Most Americans seem to understand that mother-of-five is a much, much more demanding job than Vice President.
The second is, however, much worse, and that is that most of those on the left, most of those in positions of campaign responsibility, don’t even know anyone like Sarah Palin well enough to be able to understand her appeal. The left has for generations talked about being the friend of the workingman, but for once the lie is exposed – not only is the left not the workingman’s friend, the left doesn’t even have any working acquaintances. Joe Sixpack on the docks in Green Bay has less in common with Barack Obama than he does with Vladimir Putin. Sarah Palin points this up rather dramatically. She is the woman we all married, or the carpool mom that lives next door. Whoopi Goldberg can snip about how Palin wants to send blacks back to slavery – no, she really did this – but the complaint is shrill and stupid and falls on increasingly deaf ears. Nobody can believe anything like that about Sarah Palin because we KNOW Sarah Palin. America – the part of America that still reminds me of home – is filled with women that are just like she is.
So yes, I think she’s a great pick. I think she’s intelligent and daring, tough and smart, and almost to real to be true. I wasn’t going to vote for McCain before. I am now.
When did she get to be a beauty? When did he grow to be so tall? Wasn’t it yesterday when they were small?
Today, in about half an hour, is the funeral of the kid next door. He accidentally killed himself riding his motorcycle at 100mph over the Point of the Mountain, and hit the back of another vehicle. He lingered in a coma for a few days, but then just couldn’t make it. It was his second motorcycle accident in the last two years. He was 20. He shouldn’t even have been here.
I was bathing my little 2-year-old when I realized that that kid once took baths in my tub. And then I was sobbing and holding my bewildered toddler. I’ve been doing a lot of that this last week.
My 16-year-old and 14-year-old sons are performing in Guys and Dolls, another musical, though one without nearly as much pathos. They’ve been fabulous and I’ve loved doing things with them. My father is also in it, which is a joy for me (and I hope for him). Still, I catch myself wondering when my children got old enough to play adults on stage, and watching my father and my son, knowing that a part of him has to be remembering when I was that age. Remembering oh, so clearly.
I’ve written before about my problems with the passage of time, and how much I dislike it, so none of these emotions are new and unusual. Somehow, though, this is different. The day after Layne died in the hospital, his good friend returned from his mission. Yesterday he spoke in church. I do not know how our neighbors could stand it.
What words of wisdom can I give them? How can I help to ease their way?
I’ll sit in this funeral with my almost 17-year-old and cry. I’m crying now. What can I tell him? That I don’t want him to grow up? But of course, that isn’t true. I want him to grow up and get married and have children, just as I did, but I still want to tuck him i bed and carry him on my shoulders and know that the worst thing he’ll have to face today is a bad dream. There are still little ones here. But holding little Nathaniel does not make me miss little Xander any less.
So, big Xander, little Xander, here is all the advice I have. We all go. Sometime, we all go. My father will go and I will not bear it well, as I know you will not when I go. But go we will.My father, though, will go doing what he should. I promise you, I swear on my life, I will do the same. Please, son, please, my dearest little boy, when you go, be where you should be, doing what God asks. You could give us no greater gift, nor do anything that would more powerfully draw the sting from your loss. We will all go. Please, when you go, go where we know we can find you.
But oh, don’t go.
MORTGAGE INTEREST RATES DROPPED THIS MORNING. BIG DROP. Repeat. BIG DROP.
It would be well to email me. firstname.lastname@example.org. If you closed a loan in the last three months, call me. If you closed last year or the year before, at ANY time, shoot me an email with relevant data (approx. credit score, annual income, address, current interest rate and loan amount, and when I can call you), and stand by.