In The Land Of The Great Decider
Is it just me or are the rest of us being punched around, politically, by a right cross and a left jab?
It was sunrise over Demming, New Mexico and the good ol’ boys were gathering at a great little café for breakfast. They arrived in ones and twos, talking of cattle prices, feed costs, the weather and the equipment auction coming up that weekend. They wore a variety of cowboy hats, John Deere baseball caps, NAPA Auto parts hats and a couple of major league baseball team caps. After ordering coffee, bacon, eggs, pancakes and hash browns the conversation turned to politics.
Politics these days inevitably means Iraq and one good ol’ boy ventured that “Dubbya” had it right, teach “them Godless A-rabs a lesson. Protect our interest!” A gentleman across the table countered that we had no business being there and should “bring all our boys home tomorrow.” The rest of the group looked into their coffee cups. About this time the last of the group arrived, he was the spitting image of the Marlboro man, tall, square jawed, tan, silver hair. He removed his cowboy hat when he sat down (his momma taught him right) and ordered coffee, sausage and eggs and pancakes. Murmurs of “Hey, Jimmy” and “good to see you back, Jimmy” greeted him.
“I heard y’all talking about Iraq as I walked in,” the big man said, voice low and deep, “and y’all know I just got back from Arlington, laying Jimmy, Jr. to rest.” Words of sympathy rumbled around the table. “I Had a lot of time to think on the plane, back and forth. I joined the Marines and went to Viet Nam believing that there were a bunch of dominoes ready to fall if we didn’t stop the commies. We were told that if they weren’t blown away, they would be crossing the Golden Gate tomorrow.” The good ol’ boy who had espoused admiration for ‘Dubbya’ avowed that Jimmy, Sr. had that right. His eyes firmly set on the good ol’ boy, Jimmy, Sr. said with a set jaw, “Our folks in D.C. lied to us. Jimmy, Jr. went into the Marines and to Iraq because our folks in D.C. said that they had all sorts of weapons that could wipe out millions of people. They lied to us and Jimmy, Jr. paid the price. I know, Al, you want to blow ‘em all away because they don’t pray like you do and they have oil that we want. And Slim, you don’t want to fight anyone, for any reason. What about the rest of us? You all knew Jimmy, Jr. You watched him play football. He dated some of your daughters. He worked on some of your spreads. He was a good, smart kid. You tell me… what did he die for?” The right and the left stared into their coffee cups. The rest of them just sadly shook their heads.
The rest of us. There’s something to think about. We get bombarded from the extreme right by talk radio poseurs and TV buffoons who make up whatever is convenient, both with obvious agendas. We are preached to by the extreme left by self righteous, self proclaimed arbiters of freedom whose agenda mostly revolves around decrying the positions of the far right. A sorry state of affairs on both sides.
Then there are the rest of us. Those of us who believe in “the common good.” Who believe that “Liberal” and “Conservative”, far from being dirty words, are traditionally rich staples of the political pantry. Who believe that coming to a compromise is in the best traditions of the American Way. Who also believe that there are principals worth fighting for, but there better be good reasons to fight and we should never throw the first punch.
The rest of us are tired of hearing that if we don’t agree with a particular position, we should leave the country. It has been the debate of differences of opinion that has made this country strong. The rest of us are tired of hearing that one side or the other has the only patriotic position and if you don’t agree with it, then you don’t love your country. The rest of us are REALLY tired of hearing that if we question what is going on in Iraq or the Middle East we somehow hate the troops stationed there. This is patently nonsense. The rest of us want to make damn sure that our alleged leaders never again put our troops in harm’s way for self-serving, nefarious reasons. The rest of us should take it upon ourselves to make sure that our troops never again become the cannon fodder of hysterical, paranoid and divisive diatribes from the right and left.
Jimmy, Sr. asked “what did he die for?” The radical right will tell you that he died protecting our freedoms, our way of life, our America. Maybe. The loony left will tell you that he died for nothing more than oil. Perhaps. The rest of us suspect that there is a measure of political power at stake and huge measures of money, greed, avarice and corruption added for spice. There is also a macho factor that has no place in conflict management.
The best that the rest of us can offer Jimmy, Sr. right now are our prayers and the hope that his son’s death will spur on a few more of us to take a good, hard look at those who profit from war, both monetarily and politically.
Or is it just me?
It was sunrise over Demming, New Mexico and the good ol’ boys were gathering at a great little café for breakfast. They arrived in ones and twos, talking of cattle prices, feed costs, the weather and the equipment auction coming up that weekend. They wore a variety of cowboy hats, John Deere baseball caps, NAPA Auto parts hats and a couple of major league baseball team caps. After ordering coffee, bacon, eggs, pancakes and hash browns the conversation turned to politics.
Politics these days inevitably means Iraq and one good ol’ boy ventured that “Dubbya” had it right, teach “them Godless A-rabs a lesson. Protect our interest!” A gentleman across the table countered that we had no business being there and should “bring all our boys home tomorrow.” The rest of the group looked into their coffee cups. About this time the last of the group arrived, he was the spitting image of the Marlboro man, tall, square jawed, tan, silver hair. He removed his cowboy hat when he sat down (his momma taught him right) and ordered coffee, sausage and eggs and pancakes. Murmurs of “Hey, Jimmy” and “good to see you back, Jimmy” greeted him.
“I heard y’all talking about Iraq as I walked in,” the big man said, voice low and deep, “and y’all know I just got back from Arlington, laying Jimmy, Jr. to rest.” Words of sympathy rumbled around the table. “I Had a lot of time to think on the plane, back and forth. I joined the Marines and went to Viet Nam believing that there were a bunch of dominoes ready to fall if we didn’t stop the commies. We were told that if they weren’t blown away, they would be crossing the Golden Gate tomorrow.” The good ol’ boy who had espoused admiration for ‘Dubbya’ avowed that Jimmy, Sr. had that right. His eyes firmly set on the good ol’ boy, Jimmy, Sr. said with a set jaw, “Our folks in D.C. lied to us. Jimmy, Jr. went into the Marines and to Iraq because our folks in D.C. said that they had all sorts of weapons that could wipe out millions of people. They lied to us and Jimmy, Jr. paid the price. I know, Al, you want to blow ‘em all away because they don’t pray like you do and they have oil that we want. And Slim, you don’t want to fight anyone, for any reason. What about the rest of us? You all knew Jimmy, Jr. You watched him play football. He dated some of your daughters. He worked on some of your spreads. He was a good, smart kid. You tell me… what did he die for?” The right and the left stared into their coffee cups. The rest of them just sadly shook their heads.
The rest of us. There’s something to think about. We get bombarded from the extreme right by talk radio poseurs and TV buffoons who make up whatever is convenient, both with obvious agendas. We are preached to by the extreme left by self righteous, self proclaimed arbiters of freedom whose agenda mostly revolves around decrying the positions of the far right. A sorry state of affairs on both sides.
Then there are the rest of us. Those of us who believe in “the common good.” Who believe that “Liberal” and “Conservative”, far from being dirty words, are traditionally rich staples of the political pantry. Who believe that coming to a compromise is in the best traditions of the American Way. Who also believe that there are principals worth fighting for, but there better be good reasons to fight and we should never throw the first punch.
The rest of us are tired of hearing that if we don’t agree with a particular position, we should leave the country. It has been the debate of differences of opinion that has made this country strong. The rest of us are tired of hearing that one side or the other has the only patriotic position and if you don’t agree with it, then you don’t love your country. The rest of us are REALLY tired of hearing that if we question what is going on in Iraq or the Middle East we somehow hate the troops stationed there. This is patently nonsense. The rest of us want to make damn sure that our alleged leaders never again put our troops in harm’s way for self-serving, nefarious reasons. The rest of us should take it upon ourselves to make sure that our troops never again become the cannon fodder of hysterical, paranoid and divisive diatribes from the right and left.
Jimmy, Sr. asked “what did he die for?” The radical right will tell you that he died protecting our freedoms, our way of life, our America. Maybe. The loony left will tell you that he died for nothing more than oil. Perhaps. The rest of us suspect that there is a measure of political power at stake and huge measures of money, greed, avarice and corruption added for spice. There is also a macho factor that has no place in conflict management.
The best that the rest of us can offer Jimmy, Sr. right now are our prayers and the hope that his son’s death will spur on a few more of us to take a good, hard look at those who profit from war, both monetarily and politically.
Or is it just me?
I've already compromised as much as I intend just by reading you're blog. But it was worth it -- this is the best blog I have ever read, and that's the truth.
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Love them cowboys
A Cowboy from Texas attends a function where George W is trying to gather more support for his administration.
Once he discovers the cowboy is a Democrat, he starts to belittle him
by talking in a southern drawl and single syllable words.
As he was doing that, he kept swatting at some flies that were buzzing
around his head. The cowboy says, "Y'all havin' some problem with them
circle flies?"
He stopped talking and said, "Well yes, if that's what they 're called.
But I've never heard of circle flies."
"Well sir," the cowboy replies, "circle flies hang around ranches.
They're called circle flies because they're almost always found circling
around the back end of a horse."
"Oh," George replies as he goes back to rambling.
But, a moment later he stops and bluntly asks, "Are you calling me a horse's ass?"
"No, sir," the cowboy replies, "I have too much respect for our fighting men to call their Commander-in-Chief a horse's ass."
"That's a good thing," W responds and begins rambling on once more.
After a long pause, the cowboy, in his best Texas drawl says,
"Hard to fool them flies though."
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