Should have written something yesterday - got to dealing with drama over the massive amounts of fallen leaves and a non-starting riding mower (got to deal with that again today, joy of joys), didn’t realize what day it was until this morning - so I officially suck: 

Today is the Old Man’s birthday. Yesterday was the Drum Major’s birthday. Both have had a profound impact on my life.

Most little boys hero-worship their dads, and I was no exception - difference is, my dad had it coming. While other fathers looked, sounded and acted old, my guy was young in every way possible - his age, his physical condition, his looks, his vitality, his energy, the whole package. He was always there, not just attending, but participating - Scouting and OA especially. He quit high school so he could keep me and my brother fed and clothed, got his GED and attended night school to get his Journeyman’s certification to afford my little sister, and took every construction job short of installing plumbing to keep the bills paid and the lights on. Most importantly of all, he knew that his boys would look up to him and want to be him - by the time I was 8, the Old Man had sold his Harley, hung up his colors and stopped his hell-raising to become one of the leaders of my Cub Scout Troop. At an age when most males are overgrown kids, living large before responsibilities force them into adulthood, my dad was a man, taking care of his business each and every day. In NCO school (PLDC), the Army stresses “Lead by example” - the Old Man had already taught me that lesson 20 years earlier. A lot of who I am comes from being my father’s son, and I am way cool with that. Happy Birthday, Dad, and thank you.

The rest of who I am comes from a variety of sources, but one of the most important and profound is the Drum Major. I’ve never been able to fully tell her what she’s meant to me - her impact on my life was so huge, I’ve never been able to fully put it into words. Even now, I’m having a hard time figuring out what to say, everything falls flat. Anyone who’s ever met her knows she’s wonderful - she’s funny, warm, open, inviting, she was a gorgeous girl who has matured into a stunningly attractive woman, and it is practically impossible not to have at least a small crush after getting to know her. She is easy to like and hard to forget.

That still doesn’t even scratch the surface of what she’s meant to me.

We met on one of the worst days of my life - the day I was reenrolled into my old high school after having failed out of the art magnet. Yes, that’s right, the professional graphic designer with 14 years of experience failed out of the art magnet when he was a freshman. My wonderful and well-meaning parents had sent me there so I could pursue a career that would keep me from busting my back like my dad and his dad before him; I went to get away from the despair I felt as a complete and utter outcast at my local school. After a quarter of being yet another complete and utter outcast in the supposedly improved environment, I was back at my old campus, having wasted my parent’s money and proven to myself what a loser I really was and how deserving I had been for all the taunts I’d received.

I don’t remember why the Drum Major was in the Registrar’s office that morning, but I was doing what I always do when I don’t want to anyone to know how uncomfortable I am about a situation - I was being sarcastic and self-deprecating. She was laughing, not a total surprise, I can be fairly funny when the need arises; what was a total surprise was she was not laughing at me, she was laughing with me. Imagine my shock - for the first time in literally years, a pretty girl was laughing at something I’d done, not because she thought I was a doofus, but because she thought I was cute. The hits just kept coming - this pretty girl was in my new first period class, sitting next to me for the rest of the semester, and amazingly, she decided she liked me. And she liked the school version of me, the kid with no friends, the boy who didn’t play sports in a sports-obsessed town, the teenager who kept to himself to keep from getting bullied by football players, the guy who’d proven to his parents how big a loser he really was just a few weeks earlier - the Drum Major had never met the Boy Scout and OA member who won awards and Scoutmasters asked for by name, the young man with all the potential, the Jekyll to the school’s Hyde. By the time Freshman year ended, she was my truest friend and the first love of my life; with her love and friendship showing me my worth, with her friendship and support always at my back, I slowly, sometimes painfully, recreated my life into something that no longer hurt, something I could take some measure of pride in. With her in my life, I succeeded.

When I tell people the Drum Major saved my life, I mean it literally: we met in January, 1981 and by June, 1984, I was competing at State Solo & Ensemble in UIL; lettered in choir and journalism; first battalion commander of the JROTC and first recipient of the US Army Superior Cadet medal; art club president; member of two choirs and other school clubs; yearbook editor; and highest ACT score in the school. I also had friends, a long-time girlfriend, an after-school job, and looking at college in the fall. In December, 1980, just weeks before meeting the Drum Major, I was searching for a way to kill myself that would leave my parents guilt-free.

That’s the impact the Drum Major has had on my life, and that’s how much she means to me - without her, I wouldn’t be here. Almost all of the good and wonderful things that have happened in my life - meeting the Ex, meeting the Lady Fair, marrying the Lady Fair, meeting the Best Bud, marrying off the Best Bud to the CPA, serving my country, earning my degrees, becoming godparents to the Princess and the Crab, meeting the King Geek and the Redhead - would not be possible without that chance meeting in the Asst. Principal’s office in 1981 on the worst day of my life.

Happy Birthday, sweetie. Thank you, and God bless you for just being you.

This was not how I planned to start my morning:

Waaaaaay back in October of ‘07, I wrote a little post about playing on the other side of the schoolyard - basically, I spent some time arguing with a few hardcore Red-Staters, and while I didn’t change their minds, I did earn a little respect, I gave them their due for being intellectually honest, and we reached a level of détente. The wingnuts may drive me crazy with their skewed take on reality, but to give credit where credit is due, once they hear you’re a veteran, they usually give you props for having walked the walk.

Hardcore left-wingers, on the other hand - not so much.

In Texas, my views pretty much make me a bunny-loving tree-hugging pinko Socialist, but were I in San Francisco, they’d probably view me as gun-toting cousin-chasing redneck sonuvabich. I am the first to admit I’m fairly Conservative when it comes to foreign policy and the military (it’s domestic issues like abortion and legal gay marriage that earns me the Progressive-Liberal tag), so I try not to take too much offense and keep an open mind when someone starts ragging on service members - couldn’t keep my trap shut when I saw this post (”What is Good About Our Military?”) on Daily Kos (that had been cross-posted at Left is Right, which is where I responded to it). Now, Mike, the diarist and blogger in question, is attempting to make a fairly valid point that America is a War Nation, and until the country decides to actively pursue peace instead of glorify war, unnecessary destruction and bloodshed will continue to occur. He lost me as an objective reader when his second paragraph said this:

However, I do not feel pity or compassion for U.S. soldiers killed or wounded in combat unless they were involuntarily drafted in the first place. Anyone who signs up for military service at the recruitment office simultaneously signs away their right to righteously complain about getting shot or otherwise wounded by “enemies”. They only have the right to complain about their mistreatment by their country after their service, and only because their country failed to uphold its part of the signed recruitment contract.

He later said this:

Somehow, we’ve equated “honor” with killing faceless humans. Nothing is more dishonorable than murdering a fellow human whose face you cannot see. Nothing is more uncivilized than allowing oneself to be ordered to murder without first determining for oneself if this human target is trying to kill you or just trying to defend himself/herself.

I’ve pulled these paragraphs out of context, so I would ask you go and read the entire post - he does have a point beyond the rhetoric. The lack of respect the post implies to service members and veterans got me though, so I responded as tactfully as my gritted teeth would allow. My first paragraph:

Desert Storm veteran. I can see you’re trying to make a point about embracing peace instead of constantly preparing for war, and using the military for diplomatic and/or police actions is the wrong way to go, so I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, but - damn - the first sentence of your second paragraph is nothing but epic douchebag, harkening back to the time when Viet Nam vets were spit on and called “baby-killers” in airports. I volunteered, and in doing so, I helped guarantee my brother and cousins wouldn’t need to be drafted; my sacrificing my liberties to serve my country guaranteed your continued right to post your opinions; and the nightmares I’m still having helped guarantee the freedom of thousands of people I’ve never and will never know.

There’s more, but that’s the gist. Mike the blogger didn’t respond, but Brian, a blogger over on Free Speech Zone, did:

Well now I feel like I have to answer that pack of lies. Where to start?

Although the right wing lie repeated by the militarist here has been debunked countless times, the fact is soldiers are “baby killers”. A million dead in Iraq. Perhaps three million if you count from the first gulf war on. A genocide that makes this gentleman the moral equivalent of a Nazi on concentration camp duty.

There’s more - basically I’m a glory-seeking braggart who has to lie to myself to sleep at night - but that, again, is the gist.

Damn.

As much as I’ve hated the last eight years - the countless smears and lies, my patriotism being blindly questioned, my opinions being ridiculed by people who had none of their own, just regurgitated what their preachers and radio talk show hosts had instructed them to believe - the one thing that has never happened to me is some Conservative-slash-Rightwing Zealot calling me a baby-killer and comparing me to a Nazi. It took a military-hating Liberal to do that.

I don’t know I’m supposed to think or what I’m supposed to feel, so other than I’m pissed, I’m just going to put this post out there and call this “It is what it is,” that and to point out even after last week’s historic election, this country still has a long way to go to heal the divisions.

Baby-killer. Nazi. Damn.

UPDATE: It appears Brian is not an American. I don’t know why that makes me happy, but it does. He also points out he wasn’t making a rhetorical, but legitimate comparison of my service to that of a Nazi stalag guard. Lovely.

The CPA was a Phys Ed major and an aerobics instructor before getting her Masters in Accounting, and in her high schools years was a cheerleader - she’s smart as hell, gorgeous, and still remarkably thin for someone with two kids who’s pulling 40 instead of pushing it. The Best Bud is taller, smarter, more talented and better looking than me - I’ve got better hair, but considering it’s going gray at an alarming rate, that’s hardly a plus these days. It would be fair to say that in our younger days, the Lady Fair and I had a little hero-worshipping going on with our best friends. They’ve been in town these week, leaving on a jet plane today, and we are going to miss them terribly - not because of the worshipping, though.

Here’s why:

August 2008

I don’t usually put up pics of the friends and family - this is, after all, a public blog - and when I do, I generally alter the photo somewhat to maintain a bit of anonymity; the Princess and the Crab are too pretty and the CPA did too good a job on this layout to mess them up, so hopefully she won’t mind too much.

We love you. Have a safe trip back. Come home soon.

Anyone who keeps track of this blog (all three of you) know I have a tough time with Veteran’s Day - part and parcel of my ongoing difficulty dealing with issues left over from Desert Storm and the dual actions in Iraq and Afghanistan. Yesterday was no different, even with the Best Bud, the CPA, the Princess and the Crab all being in town to visit.

If you check out my links page, there’s a write-up about IMHO the funniest strip on the web,  PvP. Check out yesterday’s strip.

Scott Kurtz got it. I smiled, then I thanked him. If you are not already checking out PvP please start - not only is he talented and damn funny, he’s also a good guy. 

And Mr. Kurtz, if you are reading this, the reply to your kind email is “You are so welcome.”

Fading light dims the sight
And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright
From afar drawing nigh,
Falls the night.

Day is done, gone the sun
From the hills, from the lake, from the sky
All is well, safely rest;
God is nigh.

Then goodnight, peaceful night;
Till the light of the dawn shineth bright.
God is near, do not fear,
Friend, goodnight.

Taps

I don’t watch a lot of Morning Joe - I didn’t much care for Scarborough when he was on in the evenings, and even after he joined the ranks of the Conservatives calling out Bush on his handling of Iraq, I could see that he was (and still is) and staunch Conservative. Honestly, I still think he started in on Bush because he saw Olbermann’s ratings more than he thought the President was wrong.

Still, the other day Scarborough said something that echoed what the Lady Fair and I were arguing to the King Geek over at his place Tuesday night: Morning Joe mentioned that it surprised him that when he was running for Congress back in 1992, the parties weren’t arguing the issues of 1992; they were still fighting the issues of 1968. Obama’s election win would mark the end of fighting the battles of the Sixties. Sullivan’s been saying the same thing, and the Lady Fair and I couldn’t agree more - this marks the end of Boomer Politics.

President-Elect Barack Obama (still cool to write that) is a Baby Boomer by technicality only - the baby boom didn’t officially end until 1965 with the first of the Generation X-ers and Obama was born before that, just on the cusp of the new generation. He doesn’t feel like a Baby Boomer, though, because his rise to maturity happened well after the high points of the Sixties - he was too young for grade school when Kennedy was assassinated, he wasn’t yet in high school when MLK and RFK were assassinated, he hadn’t yet graduated high school when the Viet Nam conflict finally ended, and the first election he was able to participate in was the Carter-Reagan election of 1980. For all intents and purposes, Obama is a member of Generation X.

And it feels that way: Obama used the new technologies to his advantage in ways that hadn’t been dreamed of just eight years ago: blogging, Twittering, text messages to not just staffers but supporters, web videos, and especially micro-donations via the internet of literally millions of small donors. Obama never resorted to the fear-and-smear tactics of prior campaigns despite what the PUMAs would have you believe - the Obama campaign was positive to the point of frustration to many of his most ardent supporters, a tactic that won the undecideds in record numbers and turned red states blue. Obama never dumbed down the message, choosing instead to speak simply yet eloquently about the challenges that lie ahead and the unity that would be necessary to overcome those challenges. Most importantly, Obama cited Ronald Reagan as an example as what an effective President could do, bringing both sides of the aisle together and transforming the nation, something a more ideologue Liberal would never attempt.

For better or for worse, the generation that fought in or against the Viet Nam War are no longer running the country - Clinton and W were their only two presidents, and, in less than 75 days, that time is past. It’s my generation’s turn at the wheel, and since my formative years were the years of Reagan - not Kennedy, not Johnson, not Nixon - maybe, just maybe, the divisiveness in national politics of the last sixteen years will finally come to an end.

That’s the hope.

Just got off the phone with Mommy Dearest, who was desperate to talk to someone who was happy about the election results - apparently, small-town Texas is all but suicidal about the Dems win last night, proclaiming this is the worst thing to ever happen to the country. “We’ll all be lucky if we still have our businesses in four years.”

Sigh.

First off, welcome to my life the last eight years, when a C-average Bubba with three failed business on his resume was elected to the highest office in the land. Ya’ll are upset a Harvard Law professor who graduated with top honors has been been put in charge of the free world. So happy I could transfer that knot in my stomach to ya’ll for a while.

Second, ya’ll have some short memories: the eight years Clinton was in office were the most prosperous in history. “Oh, well, that’s because he had a Republican majority in Congress keeping him in check” - BUSH had a Republican majority for the first six years and he drove the economy into the toilet. “But the Dems have been in control of Congress the last two years! It’s their fault it’s all gone to Hell in a handbasket!” The Dems have had only a one-seat majority in the Senate and the Republicans have spent the last two years blocking everything that has come down the pike, up to and including the Credit Crisis $700 Billion Bailout package and the Immigration Reform package THEIR OWN PRESIDENT brought to them. The Dem-controlled Congress has been the “do-nothing” Congress because the Conservatives made it so.

Simple economics, people - if you lower taxes while increasing spending, the deficit goes up, making the dollar go down. When the dollar goes down, everything that is bought from somewhere else goes up in price. The main product purchased from somewhere else is oil, and if oil goes up, everything that is based on either petroleum or petroleum byproducts, from gas to transportation to food, also go up. Welcome to the Recession. Trickle-down supply-side economics - Reagan Economics - has not and did not work.

Third, and this one is the biggie: stop buying into the far-Right hype against Obama - he’s NOT “the most Liberal candidate ever to run for President.” John Kerry and Ted Kennedy both were and are far more liberal and they both ran for President, Kerry as the party’s nominee, Kennedy losing to Carter in 1980. Obama is not going to turn everyone into Socialists - the Constitution wouldn’t allow it, he doesn’t believe in it, and even if he did, YOU don’t believe in it so it ain’t going to happen. He’s not going to “spread the wealth,” he’s going to take the tax rates back to where they were when Clinton was in office - you know, that time when we all had jobs and could afford food and gas. He’s going to raise taxes on people making over $1 Million ’cause they now pay less in taxes percentage-wise than folks making $60k and he thinks that’s bad for the economy. When the middle-class has money, they buy stuff; when the wealthy have money, they horde it so the interest makes them more money. A healthy middle-class means a healthy economy

Obama is not a member of the far-left - when it comes to domestic policy, he is and always has been a centrist in the vein of Bill Clinton. The people who are going to be the most disappointed by an Obama presidency will not be the Moderates and true Conservatives, but the moonbat Progressives who have deluded themselves into thinking a black president means a sweeping social agenda - won’t happen. Didn’t happen when Obama was the editor of the Harvard Law Review, didn’t happen while he was State Senator, didn’t happen while he was Senator, won’t happen while he’s President. So take a breath and just relax.

If I’m wrong, we’ll know it by the 2010 elections when the Republicans retake those lost seats in the House and Senate - if and when that happens, I’ll apologize. Until then, have faith the system works, start taking that daily hit of antacid, and do your deep-breathing exercises to stay calm.

You know, the stuff I’ve been doing the last eight freakin’ years.

Spent the evening over at the King Geek’s place, watching the returns, cheering as states turned blue, cheering when Liddy Dole went down in flames, booing with Chambliss, Graham and McConnell kept their seats. King Geek won the bet on when McCain’s consolation speech would occur. McCain’s speech was gracious and respectful; Obama’s speech was powerful and poignant. For the first time since the invasion of Iraq, the Lady Fair and I felt hope, and it feels good.

As Americans, we sometimes forget that in many parts of the world a transfer of power is impossible without violence and bloodshed; that the sole superpower, the nation that elects the leader of the free world, hands over the reins in an orderly and peaceful fashion every four years is an amazing, almost inconceivable event in countries who have never known a truly democratic election.

Last night was historic, not just for the obvious - America finally elected an African-American President - but because we reaffirmed to the world the promise of what this country is all about: if you study, work hard, sacrifice, and stay true to your ideals, you can achieve anything; more importantly, the populace will vote for the best suited person for the job, even if that person is a woman, even if that person is black with a funny name and an exotic upbringing. America is the shining example of not just a democracy, but a meritocracy, from which people around the world draw inspiration and hope.

I have always been proud to be an American because of the promise America represented - I’m now proud to be an American because that promise has been fulfilled.

It is a great day.

Read this, but grab a tissue first.

And that’s what this election is really about.

It’s finally here. Watched a retrospective “Countdown” over the weekend and realized I’d all but forgotten some of the shenanigans that occurred during the infernally long primaries just four months ago - heck, I’d forgotten how much of an out-of-the-blue What-the-hell-just-happened surprise Obama’s first primary win had been. Just since the conventions in August, it seems like this election season has gone on for-freakin’-ever. Don’t know what I’m going to do tomorrow without wall-to-wall political ads gumming up the TV 24-7.

The Lady Fair and I have already voted, taking advantage of the great weather to go stand in line two weeks ago. I personally went on the first Friday just after lunch and it still took over half an hour to go through the process, so many people had shown up. A worker said we should have seen it during the lunch rush, it was just crazy. Which makes me feel good - people should be lining up to vote, it should be this crazy every year. Maybe after this year, it will be. In any event, it felt good to vote for someone, as opposed to four years ago when I was voting against someone. Lady Fair feels the same way.

Only drawback to having voted early is we have nothing to look forward to the rest of the day until the polls close and the results start coming in ten hours from now. Going to be a long day - my hope, my prayer, is that it is not a long night.