The Movement You Need…

Happy Birthday America!

I’ll be the first to admit that I have less than zero tolerance for those who champion causes under the banner of “progressivism.” I’ve never been able to get beyond the absurdity inherent in people who insist we would all be better off if Americans had no reverence for our past; no mindfulness of our place in life’s great continuum; and, no deep and broad concern for the what sort of nation we pass on to generations that will follow us. As I observe it, there is a vast shallowness of soul possessed by “progressives.” They scoff at all historical prescriptions pointing to the danger in living for and craving only the instant, radical change that comes with exposure to every new innovative trinket, bauble and glittery design: “Hey! Look what I figured out how to do! Let’s all go do it!”

Who cares if the bungee cord is 10 feet longer than the distance to the ground from the bridge. It is the “progressives” who would have us jump simply because someone invented the cord!

These thoughts were on my mind as I read this essay:

Put away the flags | The Progressive

On this July 4, we would do well to renounce nationalism and all its symbols: its flags, its pledges of allegiance, its anthems, its insistence in song that God must single out America to be blessed…

[more gibberish ensues, then this]

…When the first English settlers moved into Indian land in Massachusetts Bay and were resisted, the violence escalated into war with the Pequot Indians. The killing of Indians was seen as approved by God, the taking of land as commanded by the Bible. The Puritans cited one of the Psalms, which says: “Ask of me, and I shall give thee, the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the Earth for thy possession.”

When the English set fire to a Pequot village and massacred men,women and children, the Puritan theologian Cotton Mather said: “It was supposed that no less than 600 Pequot souls were brought down to hell that day.”

For me, this was the most important and easiest part of Zinn’s piece to debunk. Because I’m quite familiar with the Pequot war, his spin on it leaves me convinced that Zinn wrote the whole piece with utter faith that no one would discover or debunk his disingenuousness. By putting this particular moment in American history out there, Zinn leaves himself open to ridicule by those of us who share handed-down family stories about the things our ancestors did to lay the foundation for our great nation. You see, my great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great Grandfather, John Endecott, led the expedition that fought and killed the Pequots; so, I have a vested interest in making sure that history is not revised in such an onerous manner by contemporary authorities who would alter the facts to promote anti-American agendas. Zinn’s piece attempts just that. (Continued)

Tags: american history, Conservatism, progressivism

When I was a young political pup, I served as Congressman E. Clay Shaw’s campaign finance director. I first began to admire the man because of the compassion shown by his staff in helping me care for my mother after she was seriously injured in a kitchen fire that ultimately led to her death - they helped me quickly navigate byzantine Medicare and Social Security paperwork processes that mom and I had spent months flailing at in frustration. In gratitude for his playing a part in making her final months less stressful, I offered to volunteer on his campaign and persistently called to ask “is there anything I can do to help you yet?” His response was to entrust in me a vital portion of his re-election operation. At 24, I was very green and didn’t yet have a fully-formed set of political values. Today, a big part of who I am and where I stand politically is a result of following Clay Shaw’s lead. I will always be thankful and will forever admire him.

Sadly today, Clay Shaw is just a regular citizen again.

Last night, he was swept aside in a monumentally stupid voter reaction to incomprehensibly stupid leadership at this nation’s highest levels. And for that, I blame a part of the Republican Party that has in large part abandoned its conservative core. Yes, I’ve grown more conservative as I’ve gotten older. I’ve gotten more conservative because I see myself as a concerned parent prudently looking to his ancestors for guidance as this nation’s future foundation is laid - the one my daughter will inherit. Maybe today I’m more Conservative than my old friend now leaving Congress. Maybe.

This loss by the Republicans in Congress is not a loss caused by Conservatives. It is a loss caused by pretenders. Call them what you want, neocons, neo-Wilsonians, neo-Three-Stooges…these people, these BIG GOVERNMENT “republicans” (they don’t deserve the capitalization), do not represent me. And I’m quite sure that both of my parents, whose values I adore, would find these pretend-conservative “leaders” to be virtually without worth and would at a certain level be pleased by yesterday’s repudiation. But I also know this: They would be aghast at the notion of this morally unkempt creature Pelosi being made Speaker of the House.

It’s just a damned shame that my friend, Clay Shaw, had to be the fall guy for this bunch of starched-shirted buffoons who populate the beltway and remain ignorant of - or perhaps worse, disdainful for - the pulse of the prescriptively Conservative class, deep with ancestral ties to its founders, that still makes up a large part of this nation.

Things I don’t tell my wife

My wife, Shelley, is a kind person - perhaps the kindest soul I’ve ever gotten to know intimately. Frankly, we are very different people and she’s far more consistently pleasant than I am. I’m outgoing, gregarious and less even-tempered; she’s a reserved, consistent and calming influence on me. She’ll never be the one quick to shake the hand of every person in the room, but she’ll always be very observant and perceive a lot of things that I’ll miss. Her counsel is priceless to me, and as I write this I feel a bit guilty for not thanking her for it more often. Knowing her, being with her and growing with her has, I believe, made me a far better person than the one she met seven years ago.

I think it is our contrasting basic natures that feeds a lot of what I put into my writings in this blog and various other written forums in which I participate: She simply would rather not know about or discuss what we call current events in great detail. Too many of the reported artifacts and results of human nature we call “news” are off-putting to her. If the terrorist is in our neighborhood she wants to know about it, but if it involves clashes of civilizations in some distant sand-pit that have been going on since Abraham begat Ishmael and Isaac, I know to spare her the details.

Our commitment to each other, building our lives together and raising our daughter gives us plenty to talk about and work on as a couple and a family. We each bring our unique strengths to bear in rearing our daughter. For instance: Very soon, my wife will be the one most intimately informed about the daily details of our four-year-old’s school days; I’m already trying to make sure that Federal intrusions like the insipid “No Child Left Behind Act” don’t render her part of a generation in which all public school children are molded into equally inept imbeciles.

We’ll both be working toward the same ends by different means while sharing equally in Katie’s successes and disappointments. (Continued)

Tags: communications, current events, human nature, no child left behind act, Political Correctness

I’ll start at the beginning.

The banner image I chose and cropped for this site is a portion of my 1964 kindergarten class picture. In the banner, I’m the shrimp at the far left. This picture is very important to me, and I’ll get to that in a bit. You might notice that I’m the shortest child in the picture; the kindergarten I attended was a two-year program. I was only four years old when this picture was taken, but so were half of the other kids.

Throughout all my years in school, until my senior year in high school growth-spurt, I was always the shortest kid in the class, and usually by several inches. Needless to say, I had to find creative ways to make up for my physical stature, lest I be picked on. I’m sure I’ll get around to describing some incidents regarding my defense of shortness in future posts.

But this post isn’t really about this picture.

This post is about my parents, particularly my Dad. It is about what they gave of themselves to me.

This post is about one moment in time. This post is about what a single incident can do to instill a meaning that lasts throughout a person’s lifetime. This post is about the process of “becoming” that every single soul goes through by his or her own path. And I hope this post makes you think about a cherished memory that at least brings a smile.

This picture, and a couple others from my kindergarten days, are my reminders about how I began to become the person I am today. The mental images I cherish from this time are far more important than the end result of light exposure upon film transferred to photo-sensitive paper. Every time I look at or think about this picture the memories flood back. And it always makes me happy. (Continued)

Tags: Family, love, self confidence