Why Barack Obama is President-Elect

The Santa Fe Mother Blogger spends too much time on her computer. Email debating is a big portion of my computer time with a group of near and on six-oh-dear! birth dates. It's called The Sandbox. Three sandboxers sent me their thoughts about this year's election. Thanks to Bob Johnson, California Sue and Jay Pelzer, all of today's guest bloggers. Please take a minute to read these diverse and thoughtful pieces.

By Robert Johnson

As I write this short reflection, we are three days removed from selecting the twelfth President to serve in office during my "60 O' Dear" years on this small planet.  I thought it best to put down these thoughts without reference to winners and losers. 

Political pundits have beaten the drum for almost two years and yet I find little or nothing in the candidates that strikes a strong chord, that truly resonates with me.  Although I found myself much more immersed in the day-to-day roller coaster rides of the candidates-in-waiting than in prior quadrennial bouts (one of the joys of semi-retirement) I could find little to recommend the process that I was witnessing.  Perhaps it is the dumbing down of our national discourse--a Presidential campaign reduced to meaningless sound bites, repetitive stump speeches, empty promises, sub voce innuendo - politics as usual on both sides of the narrowing aisle. 

Before dotting my ballot with a black marker (no hanging chads this go-around) I decided to do a quick historical survey of Presidents who served in office during my lifetime.  Since 1948 there have been eleven, six Republicans, five Democrats, comprising 35 and 25 years in office, respectively.  I thought it might be illuminating to peg specific moments in my life on the Presidential time-line.  Perhaps that sequence of dates would somehow demonstrate a recurring pattern of good times/bad times in correlation to the holder of the Presidency.  No luck!  I was born with a Democrat in office, married and had our children with a Republican in office, received my Bachelor's degree under a Republican, and my law degree under a Democrat, got divorced under a Democrat and retired from my government years under a Republican. 

Quite a mixed bag, but nothing substantial enough to sway me to the left or right for this election.

 After taking a short break to refill my empty glass with a mediocre California red (these being hard economic times), it dawned on me that perhaps all of this election brouhaha is nothing more than sound and fury, an empty tempest, signifying  nothing.  I came to the realization that the occupant of the Oval Office has a net-zero effect on the day to day lives of those around me, whether rich, poor, black, white, green or pink.  We live our lives as a "do-it-yourselfers". We don't look to government to solve our problems.  No one in government  stands in the way of what we choose to do with the remaining years of our lives.  So I shall leave it at that. 

Personally, I do not find my heroes in the West Wing or in the hallowed halls of Congress, I find them in much simpler places, a family gathering, a church service, a community project, a walk around the block.  From this election day forward my mantra shall be: "Let all the scalawags have Washington, D.C., just stay clear of 74th Street and its nearer environs.  My neighbors, friends and I will do just fine looking after each other without you. "

 From my perspective, we become a nation divided when we are bombarded, each and every day, with those societal issues that separate us from one another.  From my small corner of the urban wilderness, the issues that divide us are most loudly trumpeted in four year intervals, coinciding with election cycles.   Our more unifying qualities are somehow forgotten, our more divisive qualities brought to the fore.  Enough is enough, it is time to ring the bell, bringing an end to Round Twelve of the Ultimate Presidential Fighting Championship.  Here comes the referee and it looks like a split decision.

Why is it time for Barack Obama to be President of the United States?

by California Sue

 We need to thank one political party for the other's election. Simply put, Conservatives have made it possible for Obama to be elected in the 2008 Presidential election. Why:

 1. We are in the middle of the worst economic crisis since the great depression. Corporations and individuals' wealth, retirement funds, and home ownership have plummeted.

 2. Since the early 1990s, Conservatives have either held the Presidency or the majority of Congress, or both for all but two years.

 3. In the eyes of other nations, the United States foreign affairs approval rating is abysmal.

 4. The Grand Old Party, over the years, has metamorphosed into something unrecognizable. It now holds itself in such high esteem as to define which religion is good and which is not, who is a Christian and who is not. To be a Conservative used to mean respect for civil liberties and passed on the message that we should conduct our lives standing up for the basic freedoms we ALL hold so dear.

 I have an acquaintance that is conservative- born of many generations before him.  I respect and admire his passion for, and belief in the conservative ideology.  Politely reminded of the definition of conservative, I was prompted to look up the same for liberal. This is when I knew Obama would win the 2008 Presidential election.

 My Webster's New World Dictionary defines conservative as: 1. tending to conserve; 2. tending to preserve established institutions, opposed to change; 3. moderate; cautious.

It also defines liberal as: 1. generous 2. ample; abundant 3. not literal or strict 4. tolerant; broad-minded 5. favoring reform or progress.

 Given the four points listed above, it was not hard to figure out that this great country needs more tolerance of the world around us, reform of economic policies, and additional progress to become a better functioning society as a whole.

 The conservative party needs to find itself again, and reinstate the original values, before it can elect another Republican to the office of the Presidency.

A Tongue In Cheek Thought About What If McCain Won

by Jay Pelzer

McCain won because Obama knocked on the wrong door in Akron, Ohio. "Joe the Plumber" walked outside to talk to him. And, with all the media watching, Obama said he wants to "spread the wealth." And the whole country heard him

Then, instead of letting the story die, Obama and his liberal media cohorts gave it "super life" by drawing more and more attention to it. To discredit him, they dipped so low as to say that Joe's real name isn't "Joe." It's his middle name. (My mother has always gone by her middle name ... Lina. You can scream "Mary" at her all day long and she won't turn around.) They point out that he isn't a "licensed" plumber. But they fail to point out that he doesn't have to be as long as he works for a licensed company. Obama ridicules Joe for days asking, "Does anyone know a plumber who makes $250,000?" Biden is out asking crowds the same question. But everyone clearly heard Joe say that it is the COMPANY that "makes $250,000, or 270 or 280."

And the best thing they all did was to show the brilliance of the Republican Party. The media were all trying to paint Joe as a "plant" by the Republicans. So, 14 years in advance, the Republicans knew:

• Obama would be the candidate;
• Obama would go door to door in Ohio
• Obama would go to the door of the house in which Joe lives; and
• the taxable income level that would be in question would be at $250,000. The sheer clairvoyance of the Republican Party amazed every one.

Even after having the media score another victory for Obama in the debate, on the "night of Joe," his lead in the polls fell from 7 points in some polls, to 14 points in another, down to 2 to 4 points in all the major polls ... all in less than three days.

At the Inauguration John McCain gave a shoutout to Barack Obama ... who was at home writing his next book, "How America Stole the Election ... The Defeat of a Black Socialist.”

Edward Parone’s Octogenerian Blues

Edward Parone is today's guest blogger. He celebrated his eight-oh-dear! birthday this century. Edward is an editor, writer, director, actor, retired gentleman, and a soul I deeply admire.

He has much to say from his sage-eyed position.

by Edward Parone

Hi there! I'm Joe, the Octogenarian. You know, one of those geezers from the so-called Greatest Generation? The Great Depression --World War II--and all of that-- who woke up one recent fine September morn to find that, having lived his early life in that Great Depression, he is coming to the end of it in yet another one that may be even worse! It is, in a word, depressing. Especially for those of us lucky enough to have survived this long and still have most of our marbles falling into the right slots. If this is the farce version of the American tragedy, then I can only repeat a catch-line from a popular 30s radio program: "Taint funny, Magee!"

But how, you ask, did it happen?

Well, there's no point in dodging the issue: We did it. Yes, us, the Greatest G. Just as I felt strongly that after 9/11 the president should have done everything to enlist the help of the Moslem world in dealing with Islamic terrorism by pointing out that their children had done this murderous deed --so it is that our children, with our help, have brought us to this sorry state.

We survived our Depression and the lucky came back from that war all fired up with the notion that nothing like either would ever happen to us or our kids again. (We had all seen the scene in Gone With the Wind.) So we showered them with everything we had once been deprived of, and much, much more. From there, it was only a step to the showering of their kids with even more Stuff--until we had spoiled them into the over-parented, over-praised, over-indulged, half-literate, entitlement-soaked generation we see so often depicted today.

Piracy, plagiarism and cheating are nearly universal. Common civility and manners have vanished. Where once the departure of adolescence to take your place in the world of adults was the common, desirable goal, there is now little desire to ever leave adolescence. And living in America is like living in a perpetual high school, its hallways lined with magic ATMs from which you can make endless withdrawals and no deposits. Did we really tell you that you could have Everything You Wanted? Nostra culpa.

America had everything it needed, including more money and guns than anyone else, to enter the 21st Century leading the world in every field of endeavor. And then, flushed with having Everything, and given a choice between the inexperienced C-student and the experienced A-student, we took a fatal turn and chose the former--and marched resolutely backwards into an earlier century. Good enough became in a moment, well, good enough.

And where were the adults, the wise old ones, while this was happening? Right there watching while a cadre of fellow elders, determined to fulfill their frustrated ideologies, settle old scores and establish a single ruling party, misled our arrogant, unqualified C-student into one disastrous decision after another.

The complex mess that we are in is and will be the subject of a large library of books. But right now there are two aspects of it that I find scary and important:

1. How easily we are propagandized. Those of us who remember the rise of the Nazis can't ever forget how cleverly, how relentlessly, how smoothly the fascist agenda was promoted by the evil genius of Joseph Goebbels (find a word adequate enough to describe this Joe). And yet we watched while a propaganda machine of our very own and every bit as clever and insistent led us--voters, Congress, the Press--into an unnecessary and repercussive war. And from there to condoning torture, flouting Constitutional law, loss of moral stature, a depleted treasury, domestic neglect and the loss of thousands of lives--all of which revealed,

2. the disparaging of brains as a way of dealing with life's problems. When did Dumb become the new Smart? And who's been telling kids that using your brains, being intelligent, exalting reason and the intellect are for sissies, nerds, losers, and/or fools? We don't exalt brain power now; we exalt the mediocre things it's capable of: fame without talent or accomplishment, riches without making anything useful or beautiful. We don't even make anything that anyone wants very much anymore. An elite corps spends all its time manipulating money. (And ironically, not all that well.) How many Americans come home happy with their day's work?

This is not good enough for a great country.

We Octos are the last of the grandchildren of the Edwardians. And while we might wish that some of the best of that now-distant age would cling to your future, the last thing we want is a return to that past. Far too much of the world is not using the past to learn but is mired in it, in old superstitions, old beliefs and dogma, stuck in systems that will not allow the expression of real feeling and thought in the present, and that offer no real future. Unless you consider death a desirable future.

Two things made this country possible: energy, and before that: imagination. And without imagination we're lost. Because you have to be able to imagine a possible future in order to have one--but one rooted in reality, not myth, or fairy tales. And for that we need brains, all the brains we can get. We can't keep dealing with our problems by riding down to the OK Corral to solve them.

So what are we leaving you, those we have helped to spoil? The very thing we thought to save you from? Or is the legacy of the Greatest G only the enormous job of saving the country and helping in the survival of the planet itself?

It's enough to give anyone the Octogenarian Blues.

 

Money Laundering: Lifestyle Recirculation

Without a weekly income for months now, without buyers for buy my house, and with folks who flock faster to garage sales than Neiman-Marcus sales, I have a new job.

 

My new employer is my bank book.

 

Finding the balance between a business owning me and the new proprietorship of myself and my time has some costs—no fluid income.

 

I panicked at first. But panic resolves nothing except the realization that my choice was made, the national economy is not working with me, I'm not exactly employable (no one is hiring anyway), and that I better reactivate my inner chain saw. That's right, cut down the overgrown expenses of a former lifestyle.

 

We'll see how well this works. I'm still going to have to invent some kind of real income. Spouse and I are working on it right now. See www.riptidealchemy.com. But we don't plan to bleed as brutally as we bled owning our former business in Santa Fe for 20 years.

 

Meanwhile, it's a perfect day on the California coast—so a good walk is in my immediate future. When I get back I'll tend to my itsy-bitsy fall garden. It's a part of my savings/good health program. I'm relearning some old talents that I closeted. Check out what's sprouting on the sidebar. And send me your great cost ideas from food, drink, wear and pleasure. I'll share those ideas here.

Photo: My fall garden planted 2 1/2 weeks ago!

Economic Crisis Boils My Blood At Independence Hall

When I recently held my grandson, Quinlan, for a photo in front of Independence Hall in Philadelphia, tears happened. It was one of those times when I felt the Revolutionary War and Patriot bloodline that runs thru me pulse over to Quinlan—even though he's a toddler.

My blood began that slow boil. Let me explain.

The glorious daughters and son-in-laws that spouse and I are blessed with, celebrated our SIX-OH DEAR! time with a whirlwind tour of Philly, NYC, and a mini-urban respite on Long Beach Island, NJ.

Our NYC visit included the Lion King on Broadway (Note to EP: It was a cartoon but a pleasant lift from the news.) and, of course , the tourists' tour of Manhattan: Times Square, Statue of Liberty, Central Park, and Wall Street. And that's where it all began for me.

Wall Street was electric and almost overwhelming. Media was everywhere waiting. Pensive people were everywhere waiting.The old journalist in me started clicking photos, while a French television team cornered daughter Ocean for a person-on-the street interview.

"Wow," I thought, "this is the real deal." Several well-dressed young professionals passed by with boxes and luggage in tow. Their jobs dissolved that day. Everything I've ever read about the fall of capitalism was coming true. We were witness to the ugly arm of today's disaster capitalism.

Fall's colors were only a hint, but the weather was perfect in Philadelphia. There was no way I could not be there and not visit Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell. Understand that my ancestors marched with George Washington against wrong-doing and tyranny. So as my grandson and the rest of us sat on the cool lawns around the sanctum of our Constitution's beginnings, my blood boiled (No! It wasn't a hot flash.) For eight years, tic by tic, our country's most precious document has been ravaged. Our leaders instilled fear instead of courage. I feel like our new language should be baa-baa.

And to defend this abomination on our American foundation is wrong. Wrong. Wrong. It's time to strap the huevos back on and bring America back to its bravery, honesty, and forthrightness. Get out of the closet, turn on the lights and get a grip on what is going on around us. We didn't fight the Revolutionary War because we're a docile people. It's time to collectively get our minds, bodies and souls back in shape and just say no to this dark-rooted diatribe.

Our terrorist enemies are laughing their beards off. They don't need to attack us here anymore. We're doing a fine job of it ourselves.

 

Photos: Quinlan and his Moire at Independence Hall
Santa Fe Mother Blogger and Spouse at Lion King on Broadway
Daughter Ocean on Wall Street Interviewed by French Television

Stuck In Needles, CA As The World Ends

When the temp hit 110 degrees Fahrenheit and the power went out, it looked like the end of the world and I was stuck in Needles, CA.

Spouse and I were on the road for ten hours, heading west for some QT with the beach. The ride brought torrential rains in Flagstaff, lightning strikes to the pavement on Interstate 40, and more blinding rain. Needles—the questionable desert oasis--wasn't far, and Motel 6 always has its light on for a quick night's sleep alongside our traveling cat, Mouser.

We made ourselves and the cat at home at the M6, schlepped through the stifling 110-degree air over to Denny's for an icy chicken salad and iced tea. The sky blackened, spiraled wind-gusts roared pass our view window, and a few showy lightning strikes crossed the wicked sky. Waitresses chatted and yucked around with the three other customers, and really bad music slipped through the really badder speakers.

"Crack!" "Pop!" Silence. Darkness.

I asked our waitress to fill my cup with more tea and a side cup of ice—just in case. The storm continued, but the electrical power ceased, desisted and died. The restaurant's shift manager decided to shut 'er down. We shoveled our warming chicken salads down, counted out exact change for our bill and headed back to M6. Mouser was fine. He loves heat AND he wasn't in the car. He took to the window sill and smirked at the arriving guests and their pets.

"Hey, we have some wine in the ice chest," I recalled to spouse. Like superman to a crime scene, he was on it. Wine opened and plastic cups filled, we pulled our motel chairs outside thinking that at the very least the storm's winds would cool us down until power was back up and those noisy air conditioners would rattle us to sleep.

Single lightning bolts turned to web-like fireworks against the coal skies. The air seemed to turn red and I started thinking about Revelations. We looked out over the Colorado River where it took its Spanish name seriously. The temps didn't really lower by much, there was no a/c and we were witnessing the world's end and stuck in Needles.

I recanted my bad ways: No more swearing at stupid drivers and nincompoops; no more driving over the posted speed limit; no more lusting after chocolate when others must go without; no more gossip; no more calling annoying sales people Ferengi ; no more not flossing my teeth when I'm too tired; and no more wishing I had more when I have enough.

Meanwhile, the grumpy guy next to our room told all of us to "take our party someplace else." "All of us" were our new best friends—the other guests at the M6 who couldn't take the heat of the sealed tight and severely hot rooms. We shared our stories and photos of grand kids.

My cup of ice waned as did my energy. I had to lie down. So into the cold shower I went before stretching out against the warm sheets. It took three more hours of four cold showers, and several wet wash rags across my forehead until I knew that the world wasn't really ending after all.

Guest Blogger Ready to Debate Al Gore

By
Jay Pelzer
Guest Blogger

The "writer" (me) had done a "rational gathering of facts." The most recent (updated since my blog) numbers I could find are at: Global Temperature Report: June 2008 As you can plainly see, all the temperatures are either at, or below the 20 year average. If you wish to go check the NOAA, NASA and UAH numbers, you will find that the temperatures are now below the 2,000 year average. Since Al Gore's Jan 2006 prediction that we have "Only 10 years left.....," the global temperature has dropped 0.6 degrees C. (During which period we have had record usage of fossil fuels ... and record sized forest fires in America and Australia.)

The globe is cooler than it was at anytime between 550 and 1200 AD. In June of 2008 it was cooler than it had been since Jan 2000. But, you can bet it is going to go up again sometime. And then it is going to go back down again ... just as it has for 2,000 years.

If Al Gore is so sure of his facts, why won't he debate representatives from the other side of the argument? John Coleman, founder of the Weather Channel, has a couple of thousand PhD's behind his side. Lord Moncton, with the support of the American Physical Society (APS .... possibly the world's most renown group of physicists), has challenged Gore to an international debate on the issue. Why isn't Gore taking any of the challenges so convert the "nonbelievers?" Instead, he leaves his "20 times the national average carbon footprint" house in his SUV. Goes to the airport to get into his private jet to fly to his destination airport where he is picked up by a limousine. Then he drives off to preach to his choir.

If Gore truly believes what he says, why doesn't he have like just a 9 or 10,000 square foot house? Drive a Prius or other hybrid? Fly commercial. And try to convert the disbelievers? Why was his Nobel Prize for peace, and NOT for science? (Oh, there's no "peer review" for a peace prize!)

Thankfully, "S ... With Ardent Veracity," you did come up with the honest answer to the question about what SUV's and air conditioners did the cave men use to end the ice age?" : NONE! But the globe got warmer and the Ice Age ended. Go figure.

So far, Al Gore's 2006 prediction is doing about as well as Ted Dansen's 1987 prediction that the oceans would be "dead" within 10 years.

Note from the Santa Fe Mother Blogger: Do you agree? Let me hear from you.

Rush Limbaugh Okays Edward’s Cheatin’ Heart

Trusting and loving your partner in marriage is one of those things that can rip apart a heart when the trust is broken.

Marriage is an institution that can bring so much joy, comfort and misery than any other institution I've experienced. I'm comfortable discussing matrimony's state since I'm on my third set of vows.

We can't help but notice that the far right is pro-marriage as long as it's man and woman. But that's not what this blog is about. Yesterday the far right water carrier, Rush Limbaugh, slipped up and told the truth about himself and maybe his ditto heads when he said,

"We've been told that Elizabeth Edwards is smarter than John Edwards.  That's part of the puff pieces on them that we've seen.  Ergo, if Elizabeth Edwards is smarter than John Edwards, is it likely that she thinks she knows better than he does what his speeches ought to contain?  And what kind of things he ought to be doing strategy wise in a campaign?  If she is smarter than he is, could it have been her decision to keep going with the campaign? 

In other words, could it be that she doesn't shut up?  Now, that's as far as I'm going to go…It just seems to me that Edwards might be attracted to a woman—whose mouth did something other than talk."

Are you disgusted or do you think it's funny?

I wasn't in cancer treatment or just out of treatment like Elizabeth Edwards was while her meandering ass of a spouse was doing his thing with whomever. (Quick note, spouse #3, was my strength and blessed one while I was in cancer treatment.) However, once upon a time when I was not in good circumstances, an earlier spouse wandered from our bed into another's. I cannot express the lasting anguish that followed me for decades. At a time when I needed my husband more than ever (and Elizabeth Edwards needed hers more than ever), he was busying himself with another woman-women. Why? Because he could, and as other's have stated, like Limbaugh, maybe I should have taken "better care" of my husband.

My friends (sorry about that McCainism), this is bull crap.

May I recommend to those considering joining Club Wed, think seriously about that "in sickness and in health" business. If that doesn't really work for you, stay single.