Millions of column inches and hours of airtime will be spent dissecting the various turning points as a result of the Florida primary yesterday (1/29).
Giuliani's 3rd place will probably overshadow McCain's win for a bit as people 2nd guess his 2nd guessing. No doubt his decision to put all his eggs in the one big basket so late (who'd have thunk late January would be considered late in a political campaign?) will be mulled over by many a pundit for days and weeks to come.
Huckabee is almost an afterthought now. While I'm sure they can't relate to him on any level, I still think it was more than just a slight that the NY Times on-line front-page mentions the GOP race being now down to two. Huckabee was just in Missouri yesterday talking about the importance of MO in his quest. Did he drop out sometime between 10 p.m. last night and this morning?
Here's my latest without any further on the events of yesterday.
I think in a head-to-head, McCain has a chance against Clinton. He's no Bob Dole if you remember that Clinton v. somebody election.
But in the event of a McCain v. Obama race (I know I'm getting ahead of myself here since Romney is still doing pretty well.) I think McCain does become Bob Dole and the election is over before it even starts. Unless ....
I've told a version of this story before but it was about Bush 43 and Karl Rove back near the end of his first term.
In my opinion, the only way, but a pretty sure-fire way for McCain to beat Obama, is to find and put a superb minority candidate on his ticket (and promise to only run and serve for one term.) I don't even know who this person is - a Hispanic? African-American? Woman? I'll bet if you can get two-out-of-three from this list it will be a landslide! This is not a racist statement - just an observation and hopefully good politics.
The GOP for too long has either ignored or taken for granted minorities. I'm still not seeing any grass-roots efforts to bring talented minorities up through the ranks. Why doesn't the RNC have a farm system and a program to recruit and train young minorities to be running for school boards, city councils etc.? I was just reading this week and was reminded of Bush 43's snub of the NAACP years ago. If I can still remember that, so can bunches of other folk.
So if McCain can keep up his momentum and not in a way that presumes anything, announce he'd like so-and-so to serve as his VP, and that so-n-so happens to be a minority, just imagine how galvanizing that would be. And while he is far from perfect the first name that pops into my head is Colin Powell. I know in many ways he's more like Giuliani, but he has so many other strengths.
Locally the rumors are that soon-to-be former Guv of MO, Matt Blunt is the likely choice for a VP if Romney gets the GOP nod. All I think of is that you have two pieces of white bread and no sandwich! I don't really know what that means but it sounded funny!
I've expressed some interest in McCain around my office and I am immediately greeted with the polite equivalent of hoots and hollers. But while he may not be my ideal person either, I think he has the Presidential stuff and just as important, I think he can win against either of the two Democratic possibilities. In the long and short term, that is hugely important.
I know I only have a few faithful readers but I'd really like to hear some minority names floated as possible VPs.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Over the Hill
Last Friday was one of those too rare occasions when my wife and I got out for an evening together. After a bite at her fave Steak and Shake, we headed to the movies. Our choices were limited somewhat by time unless we wanted to catch a really late movie. So we opted for the Bucket List. I'll not review that here; just that it is OK. You mostly get to see Jack Nicholson being Jack Nicholson. But it has its sweet moments. And I always like Morgan Freeman.
But my moment happened when I bought our tickets. My wife was in the car so I stood in line alone. I got to the window and said "Two for Bucket List please." and the nice young man on the other side of the probably unbreakable security glass asked: "Are either of you Senior Citizens?" Since it was just ME standing there, who else was he asking about?
I guess I have enough gray in my beard now to give away that I am no longer part of the younger generation. It is only fitting to reach the rank of "old fart" when I am going to see a movie that is basically about two old farts.
But my moment happened when I bought our tickets. My wife was in the car so I stood in line alone. I got to the window and said "Two for Bucket List please." and the nice young man on the other side of the probably unbreakable security glass asked: "Are either of you Senior Citizens?" Since it was just ME standing there, who else was he asking about?
I guess I have enough gray in my beard now to give away that I am no longer part of the younger generation. It is only fitting to reach the rank of "old fart" when I am going to see a movie that is basically about two old farts.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
911
I made my first-ever call to 911 today. And I have to say even in our dinky little town in our dinky little county, the guy who answered the phone was professional, asked all the right questions and we had someone to our place within probably ten minutes – maybe less.
I should back up.
I spent most of the day cutting firewood. My wife and oldest daughter were out with our mowers trying to knock down what is left of our pasture. Today was breezy, early-spring-like. Did I say anything about the wind blowing?
My wife decided to see if she could burn off some of the remaining stands of Johnson grass in our hay pasture. I didn’t know this until I saw some smoke on the far side of our pasture. She’s done this before so I wasn’t too worried. Except; have I mentioned it was a little on the windy side today?
After a few minutes it was obvious that the fire had grown a bit bigger than my wife had intended. So we broke out all our buckets, connected all our hoses and headed off to squelch the growing grass fire.
After about an hour of hauling buckets and trying to stamp it out it was obvious the fire was moving faster than we could put it out. It was never very big but spread out over a couple of hundred feet and moving east toward the woods and our neighbors beyond that.
So I break out my cell phone and call 911. Yep, we even have 911 way out here.
Two guys showed up with a pick-up that had a large tank in the back. For a minute it didn’t sound like their motor for their pump was going to start. But it did.
I had told the operator that I hoped this call wasn’t a false alarm and I was partly right. By the time the volunteer guys arrived, it was pretty well under control and only a few spots were flaring up.
They made couple of passes around the blackened area and sprayed water all around.
They chatted with my wife for a bit and were on their way. But they did ask her if we had paid our dues.
See, in rural areas most fire departments are volunteers. You typically pay a small yearly fee (I think ours went up to $50 this year.) I don’t know what happens if you don’t pay – I guess they charge a fee or send a bill or something.
The moral of course is to not burn when conditions are dry or windy. We are/were probably lucky. I doubt my wife will be so eager to burn off pasture anymore.
The second moral is to pay your Rural Fire Dues or whatever they call them. And next time they stop you at an intersection with a boot collecting change for whatever – toss in what you have.
I should back up.
I spent most of the day cutting firewood. My wife and oldest daughter were out with our mowers trying to knock down what is left of our pasture. Today was breezy, early-spring-like. Did I say anything about the wind blowing?
My wife decided to see if she could burn off some of the remaining stands of Johnson grass in our hay pasture. I didn’t know this until I saw some smoke on the far side of our pasture. She’s done this before so I wasn’t too worried. Except; have I mentioned it was a little on the windy side today?
After a few minutes it was obvious that the fire had grown a bit bigger than my wife had intended. So we broke out all our buckets, connected all our hoses and headed off to squelch the growing grass fire.
After about an hour of hauling buckets and trying to stamp it out it was obvious the fire was moving faster than we could put it out. It was never very big but spread out over a couple of hundred feet and moving east toward the woods and our neighbors beyond that.
So I break out my cell phone and call 911. Yep, we even have 911 way out here.
Two guys showed up with a pick-up that had a large tank in the back. For a minute it didn’t sound like their motor for their pump was going to start. But it did.
I had told the operator that I hoped this call wasn’t a false alarm and I was partly right. By the time the volunteer guys arrived, it was pretty well under control and only a few spots were flaring up.
They made couple of passes around the blackened area and sprayed water all around.
They chatted with my wife for a bit and were on their way. But they did ask her if we had paid our dues.
See, in rural areas most fire departments are volunteers. You typically pay a small yearly fee (I think ours went up to $50 this year.) I don’t know what happens if you don’t pay – I guess they charge a fee or send a bill or something.
The moral of course is to not burn when conditions are dry or windy. We are/were probably lucky. I doubt my wife will be so eager to burn off pasture anymore.
The second moral is to pay your Rural Fire Dues or whatever they call them. And next time they stop you at an intersection with a boot collecting change for whatever – toss in what you have.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Being stupid
I did my share of this yesterday. Went to the feed store to pick up some minerals for our sheep. They come in these metal tubs and weigh more than 125 lbs. I got two. Went on to work.
Later I had to go to the post office - can't believe we still have to do that - and on my way I needed to change lanes. I was next to a woman in an SUV talking on her cell. She was in no hurry but going just fast enough that I couldn't easily get around her. Behind her was a pretty long line of cars. So I decided to goose it a little (the old truck still has some get-up-n-go!) and get in front of her to make my turn. I did and soon pulled in to park at the P.O. While walking from my truck I noticed I had only ONE mineral tub. It took about two or three seconds to realize it must have slid out when I did my Mario Andretti thing. I hadn't gone far so I walked out to the road and sure enough, about a block back was my tub, sitting patiently by the curb.
I jumped back in, drove as close to it as I could get - this is a busy street and nowhere on the street to stop and park. I had to park at a Scrambler's. This sits up a small rise from the street where my 125 lb. tub lay. I was also decently dressed and had an event coming up in about 20 minutes. So I rolled the tub up the hill and then had to figure how to get it up into my truck. My 3/4 ton sits rather high up so I was looking at getting this thing up about waist high. Somehow I had to do that without hurting my aging back nor soiling or tearing my reasonably clean and nice clothes. I did it in stages. Got my spare tire out and set the tub on it. Then using a couple of blocks of wood, got it slightly higher. Then I used a 5 gallon bucket - there's a reason to keep all this stuff in the back of my truck. Finally I got it within dragging distance of the pick-up bed. I climbed up, bent way over, said a prayer that I wouldn't destroy my back, and dragged the thing into the bed. I can lift 125 pounds but this thing is about 2 or more foot wide, does not have handy handles and remember my clothes.
I drove back to finish my P.O. business and my cell phone rang. "Hi, this is Lee from SoMo. Do you still have your barrels?" I answered I did, then I didn't but then I did again and explained my story. He said one of his drivers somehow just happened along during the time I lost my tub until I recovered it (couldn't have been more than 5 minutes). Since I was the only person who had bought those on this day, he knew it had to be mine so he looked up my account and called me.
I'm reading a book now called Forty Acres and a Fool. Reasonably funny but the author talks about the advantages of living in a small town. Even though Springfield is 150K plus and not too small, I guess it is small enough for word to travel pretty fast about the stupid things people do. Next time I am tempted to be in a hurry, I'll hopefully recall this, my sore back and my good fortune.
Later I had to go to the post office - can't believe we still have to do that - and on my way I needed to change lanes. I was next to a woman in an SUV talking on her cell. She was in no hurry but going just fast enough that I couldn't easily get around her. Behind her was a pretty long line of cars. So I decided to goose it a little (the old truck still has some get-up-n-go!) and get in front of her to make my turn. I did and soon pulled in to park at the P.O. While walking from my truck I noticed I had only ONE mineral tub. It took about two or three seconds to realize it must have slid out when I did my Mario Andretti thing. I hadn't gone far so I walked out to the road and sure enough, about a block back was my tub, sitting patiently by the curb.
I jumped back in, drove as close to it as I could get - this is a busy street and nowhere on the street to stop and park. I had to park at a Scrambler's. This sits up a small rise from the street where my 125 lb. tub lay. I was also decently dressed and had an event coming up in about 20 minutes. So I rolled the tub up the hill and then had to figure how to get it up into my truck. My 3/4 ton sits rather high up so I was looking at getting this thing up about waist high. Somehow I had to do that without hurting my aging back nor soiling or tearing my reasonably clean and nice clothes. I did it in stages. Got my spare tire out and set the tub on it. Then using a couple of blocks of wood, got it slightly higher. Then I used a 5 gallon bucket - there's a reason to keep all this stuff in the back of my truck. Finally I got it within dragging distance of the pick-up bed. I climbed up, bent way over, said a prayer that I wouldn't destroy my back, and dragged the thing into the bed. I can lift 125 pounds but this thing is about 2 or more foot wide, does not have handy handles and remember my clothes.
I drove back to finish my P.O. business and my cell phone rang. "Hi, this is Lee from SoMo. Do you still have your barrels?" I answered I did, then I didn't but then I did again and explained my story. He said one of his drivers somehow just happened along during the time I lost my tub until I recovered it (couldn't have been more than 5 minutes). Since I was the only person who had bought those on this day, he knew it had to be mine so he looked up my account and called me.
I'm reading a book now called Forty Acres and a Fool. Reasonably funny but the author talks about the advantages of living in a small town. Even though Springfield is 150K plus and not too small, I guess it is small enough for word to travel pretty fast about the stupid things people do. Next time I am tempted to be in a hurry, I'll hopefully recall this, my sore back and my good fortune.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Ya'll come!
I was watching a video today on the website ted.com
which is a compilation of an annual conference focused on technology, the arts etc. and very expensive to attend. But they put all their speakers on the web and it is a good resource.
The speaker was from South Carolina but started talking about Hungary (for a bit). Now he admits he doesn't even have a drop of Hungarian blood. But his heavy southern accented speech reminded me of some old friends (both deceased) from back in the 70s.
Walter and Edelwiess Kaschel. They were Brazilians from Sao Paolo. They had come to my work in Akron, Ohio to help translate a TV program into Portuguese. Walter had spent years as the voice of Billy Graham in Brazil. He served as the on-stage translator for Graham's rallies in Brazil. They were the sweetest couple I may have ever known. By the time I met them both were in their 60s and I was a young man in my mid-20s.
The point of this is to remark on their spoken English. Both spoke impeccable English having been trained as translators and serving in this challenging profession for decades.
But in the 50s they came to the U.S. to study at a Bible school. It happened to be in southern Louisiana. If you've ever heard any native Louisianian speakers then you can appreciate the humor here. Here they were, temporary immigrants to the U.S., in northern Ohio which is known for its lack of discernible accent, and they would jump from their perfect Brazilian Portuguese into the patois of a Cajun and back to Portuguese. I guess just like a child grows up with an accent that reflects who he grows up hearing, some if not all non-native English speakers are going to adopt the cadences and accents of the people they hear speaking English. As a kid in Texas we used to see these commercials for Wolf brand chili and their spokesperson was Justin Wilson; a Cajun comedian. If you've heard Mr. Wilson, you know the accent I am talking about.
I only spent about a year or so working with them but they were and are special people.
God Bless both of them.
which is a compilation of an annual conference focused on technology, the arts etc. and very expensive to attend. But they put all their speakers on the web and it is a good resource.
The speaker was from South Carolina but started talking about Hungary (for a bit). Now he admits he doesn't even have a drop of Hungarian blood. But his heavy southern accented speech reminded me of some old friends (both deceased) from back in the 70s.
Walter and Edelwiess Kaschel. They were Brazilians from Sao Paolo. They had come to my work in Akron, Ohio to help translate a TV program into Portuguese. Walter had spent years as the voice of Billy Graham in Brazil. He served as the on-stage translator for Graham's rallies in Brazil. They were the sweetest couple I may have ever known. By the time I met them both were in their 60s and I was a young man in my mid-20s.
The point of this is to remark on their spoken English. Both spoke impeccable English having been trained as translators and serving in this challenging profession for decades.
But in the 50s they came to the U.S. to study at a Bible school. It happened to be in southern Louisiana. If you've ever heard any native Louisianian speakers then you can appreciate the humor here. Here they were, temporary immigrants to the U.S., in northern Ohio which is known for its lack of discernible accent, and they would jump from their perfect Brazilian Portuguese into the patois of a Cajun and back to Portuguese. I guess just like a child grows up with an accent that reflects who he grows up hearing, some if not all non-native English speakers are going to adopt the cadences and accents of the people they hear speaking English. As a kid in Texas we used to see these commercials for Wolf brand chili and their spokesperson was Justin Wilson; a Cajun comedian. If you've heard Mr. Wilson, you know the accent I am talking about.
I only spent about a year or so working with them but they were and are special people.
God Bless both of them.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Recession? What Recession?
First off I am no economist and don't really understand markets, commodities - how all the things are supposed to work. But I am hearing/reading that we are in or very near a recession once again. My limited vocabulary says that in a recession there is no growth. I believe that one - if it explains why I haven't had a raise of any decent amount in years. But I also thought that in a recession, prices remained stable or perhaps even dropped somewhat as interest went lower etc. I may have this all backwards.
But two major things jump out at me. 1) Gas prices. They are once again creeping down ever so slightly but this after a really big jump to almost $3/gal. late in 07. We are still only down to the low 2.70s now. 2) Feed.
I bought a ton (literally 2000 lbs.) of feed today for our sheep and 2 cows. In December I paid $4.75/50 lb. bag. Today for the same mix I paid $5.20. That's 45 cents or almost 10%! Holy cow! I tried to talk to the feed store people about commodity pricing and ethanol but I got in way over my head in a hurry so made a hasty and tactful retreat.
I guess I don't understand why if the powers-that-be want our economy to grow, why are prices going up? If they want to stimulate spending of the supposed tax rebate we may end up getting, shouldn't part of the goal be to keep prices at least flat?
And I am more confused than ever about ethanol. If indeed this is why my grain went up 10%, where did this extra go? If it went to a farmer who has been trying to make a living growing corn for his whole life, then you know what? I can handle that. But if it went to big corporate farms who are getting subsidized by the Govt. to grow corn, so they can in turn use up scarce groundwater to make a fuel that is only marginally cheaper but in the long run uses more resources and provide LESS mpg. than regular reduced octane unleaded already does - then I think that is patently unfair. I want my money back!
A politically savvy friend told me today that he thinks Romney is going to win because he is the one who can with some degree of confidence and believability, say to Americans, "I can get us out of this mess."
I don't know. I'm not a Romney fan but if he is the choice of the GOP against almost anybody from the other side, then ...
But two major things jump out at me. 1) Gas prices. They are once again creeping down ever so slightly but this after a really big jump to almost $3/gal. late in 07. We are still only down to the low 2.70s now. 2) Feed.
I bought a ton (literally 2000 lbs.) of feed today for our sheep and 2 cows. In December I paid $4.75/50 lb. bag. Today for the same mix I paid $5.20. That's 45 cents or almost 10%! Holy cow! I tried to talk to the feed store people about commodity pricing and ethanol but I got in way over my head in a hurry so made a hasty and tactful retreat.
I guess I don't understand why if the powers-that-be want our economy to grow, why are prices going up? If they want to stimulate spending of the supposed tax rebate we may end up getting, shouldn't part of the goal be to keep prices at least flat?
And I am more confused than ever about ethanol. If indeed this is why my grain went up 10%, where did this extra go? If it went to a farmer who has been trying to make a living growing corn for his whole life, then you know what? I can handle that. But if it went to big corporate farms who are getting subsidized by the Govt. to grow corn, so they can in turn use up scarce groundwater to make a fuel that is only marginally cheaper but in the long run uses more resources and provide LESS mpg. than regular reduced octane unleaded already does - then I think that is patently unfair. I want my money back!
A politically savvy friend told me today that he thinks Romney is going to win because he is the one who can with some degree of confidence and believability, say to Americans, "I can get us out of this mess."
I don't know. I'm not a Romney fan but if he is the choice of the GOP against almost anybody from the other side, then ...
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
The Wind That Shakes the Barley
I guess with an Irish-wife - OK almost Irish - red-head, great-grandfather (I think) from County Cork - that should count for something - somehow I heard about this movie; The Wind That Shakes the Barley.
OK caution - if you are offended by the "f-word" whether in English or heavily accented English spoken by Irishmen or in subtitles - then maybe you don't want to watch this. I didn't even try to keep count but next to "lads" and "grand" as in "I am grand," this has to be the most widely used word in the Irish vocabulary in the early 20th century. The Brits liked it too.
The story is way too complicated to recount. Suffice it to say it helps understand a little about the history of Ireland and her struggle with Britain. Trust me - if you don't already hate all things British, you will after watching this movie.
The history is way-too-complex to understand but it made me want to re-read Trinity by Leon Uris and to find another set of books by a woman named Morgan Llywelyn. Their titles are the numbers of years - 1916, 1921, 1949 and 1972 - which I guess are particularly significant in Irish history. I'll find out.
I know people will try to draw parallels and used the terrorism used by the IRA and others to in some weird way justify (or elicit sympathy for) the actions of radical Islamic terrorists but I would quickly point out that while I don't really care for the war in Iraq, our goal is not to run that country, occupy it for any longer than we have to and with few egregious exceptions, we don't rape and pillage the countryside in the name of democracy.
As I understand it, Ireland wanted to be free from British rule (does this story sound familiar?) and some - and you could call them radicals - used tactics that we could call terrorism. I'm not condoning what they did when lives were lost and property was destroyed but I can at least understand the desperate situation they were in. And while I'm sure some of the British soldiers were stereotyped, if they were half as bad as they were made out to be, then I can also understand the reaction of the Irish to these "occupiers" who made life miserable for the locals.
I plan to read up again on this situation and while I know I can never completely understand the two sides here, I'd like to have a better handle on this one. Maybe after this I'll tackle the whole mess in then-Yugoslavia, Bosnia, Croatia and what are now the - countries I can't name or pronounce.
What friends (and neighbors) are for
We've been trying to sell a big ole grain bin - a tall red thing in which you can store almost 6,000 pounds of grain. Nothing wrong with it - just that my wife found some cheaper grain in bags that works better for us.
After several weeks of no calls from little notes I put up in all the local feed stores, I got a nibble. The nibble turned into a bite and the guy wanted to come see it and most likely take it.
Only problem is, the thing is about 10 ft. tall and heavy - even when empty. So it takes a tractor to set it up or take it down.
I asked a neighbor if one of her two sons (who will usually do anything to make an extra dollar here and there) could get a tractor with a bucket to help me set it over onto a trailer. I guess one of them had been a bad boy with grandpa's tractor so it couldn't be borrowed.
I asked another neighbor who also goes to our church if they had a tractor and could possibly help. I mentioned that I had planned on paying some young men so she could pass along that I wasn't looking for a complete and total favor - there was some money to be made.
The weekend comes, I get the call so I ask officially about their help. We agree on a time - everything is set.
I really thought the job would take about 10-15 minutes but as things usually work out - it took almost an hour. I was feeling bad about the amount of time, time spent in the very cold and of course fuel as their rather large tractor was running the entire time.
We finished up, no one got hurt and the bin survived the man-handling one more time.
I dashed inside to get my checkbook to write out a couple of checks before my neighbors could leave. We spent a few minutes wrestling as I tried to shove the checks in a coat pocket. I finally succeeded only to be chased outside being told, "No, no." I ended up taking the money back, said "thank you" over and over but was told; "That's what neighbors are for."
This still takes some getting used to for me. I don't like asking for favors, I hate being a bother.
But here's a sort of public thanks to David and Scotty.
Thanks.
After several weeks of no calls from little notes I put up in all the local feed stores, I got a nibble. The nibble turned into a bite and the guy wanted to come see it and most likely take it.
Only problem is, the thing is about 10 ft. tall and heavy - even when empty. So it takes a tractor to set it up or take it down.
I asked a neighbor if one of her two sons (who will usually do anything to make an extra dollar here and there) could get a tractor with a bucket to help me set it over onto a trailer. I guess one of them had been a bad boy with grandpa's tractor so it couldn't be borrowed.
I asked another neighbor who also goes to our church if they had a tractor and could possibly help. I mentioned that I had planned on paying some young men so she could pass along that I wasn't looking for a complete and total favor - there was some money to be made.
The weekend comes, I get the call so I ask officially about their help. We agree on a time - everything is set.
I really thought the job would take about 10-15 minutes but as things usually work out - it took almost an hour. I was feeling bad about the amount of time, time spent in the very cold and of course fuel as their rather large tractor was running the entire time.
We finished up, no one got hurt and the bin survived the man-handling one more time.
I dashed inside to get my checkbook to write out a couple of checks before my neighbors could leave. We spent a few minutes wrestling as I tried to shove the checks in a coat pocket. I finally succeeded only to be chased outside being told, "No, no." I ended up taking the money back, said "thank you" over and over but was told; "That's what neighbors are for."
This still takes some getting used to for me. I don't like asking for favors, I hate being a bother.
But here's a sort of public thanks to David and Scotty.
Thanks.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Fair and Balanced
Today while having a chat with a staff member he said and I loosely quote: “I may not always agree with you but I think your are fair and honest.”
I may not be a lot of things people wish I was but if I can be and do those two things on a regular basis, then I will be doing OK.
I may not be a lot of things people wish I was but if I can be and do those two things on a regular basis, then I will be doing OK.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
New Hampshire – what else?
Everybody is falling all over themselves about how they missed the boat with Barrack and Hilary. I wasn’t surprised at all.
Whether they like her or not, being a Senator from the nearby state of NY and wife of the guy who made his own comeback in NH way back in 1992, makes her a neighbor and someone they are more likely to vote for. Iowa is simply not New Hampshire. And to take this risky blog one step further – in that area given the choice to vote for a minority or a woman; I’d say many clearly felt they could accept a woman (especially one they know about – whether they particularly like her or not) over a less well-known minority.
Another related question – now that Richardson is out – where will his votes go? More than likely to Obama.
And another related thought based on a NY Times (yes even conservatives read the NY Times.) One blogger noted that Obama really didn’t lose NH, Hillary just won. His clarification was that Obama got about as many votes as the polling people said he would. Where they missed the boat was that Hillary got a lot more. What that means to me is that in the final days she somehow got people to go out and vote who may not have planned to do so, i.e. to a pollster, this person wouldn’t have shown up in their polls or at the polls. This is still significant (if true) because you have to wonder/ask how she managed to influence people to get out and vote that hadn’t planned to. From what I’ve heard NH voters are anything but apathetic so she stirred up something in people. Honestly I’d expect the opposite results if she stirred something up; i.e. that folks would be prodded to vote AGAINST her and decide at the last minute to do so. Just musing.
I heard a short piece on NPR Tuesday as they were recapping and one spot stands out: a gentleman said he voted for someone but he didn’t make up his mind until he actually went into the booth or whatever they do in NH. That scares me!
Being undecided is one thing but right up until the moment of casting your vote? That’s why they don’t allow electioneering within so many feet of the polling places.
I propose a new rule – no ads, phone banks, door-to-door etc. within 24 hours of an election. Give people time to sit down, sort out the whos and whats and how they want to vote without being influenced by what are mostly empty promises or lip service anyway.
Another development in NH that plays into what I think is going to happen. McCain’s own comeback. Romney’s slip.
I like Mike but I don’t think he is presidential yet. Could be. Might be. McCain is presidential. With the way things are starting to shape up here’s my idea or maybe it is a proposal.
McCain picks up steam. Raises more money. Challengers begin to fall by the wayside. Before he hits the big Super Tuesday primaries etc. he announces that: 1) he promises to only serve for one term (he’s 71 years old remember?) and 2) he has selected Mike Huckabee as his potential running mate. I think one or both of these would slingshot him way past Romney and put him in the cat-bird seat.
Just remember this post in a few months.
We’ll see how this whole thing shapes up after South Carolina soon.
Whether they like her or not, being a Senator from the nearby state of NY and wife of the guy who made his own comeback in NH way back in 1992, makes her a neighbor and someone they are more likely to vote for. Iowa is simply not New Hampshire. And to take this risky blog one step further – in that area given the choice to vote for a minority or a woman; I’d say many clearly felt they could accept a woman (especially one they know about – whether they particularly like her or not) over a less well-known minority.
Another related question – now that Richardson is out – where will his votes go? More than likely to Obama.
And another related thought based on a NY Times (yes even conservatives read the NY Times.) One blogger noted that Obama really didn’t lose NH, Hillary just won. His clarification was that Obama got about as many votes as the polling people said he would. Where they missed the boat was that Hillary got a lot more. What that means to me is that in the final days she somehow got people to go out and vote who may not have planned to do so, i.e. to a pollster, this person wouldn’t have shown up in their polls or at the polls. This is still significant (if true) because you have to wonder/ask how she managed to influence people to get out and vote that hadn’t planned to. From what I’ve heard NH voters are anything but apathetic so she stirred up something in people. Honestly I’d expect the opposite results if she stirred something up; i.e. that folks would be prodded to vote AGAINST her and decide at the last minute to do so. Just musing.
I heard a short piece on NPR Tuesday as they were recapping and one spot stands out: a gentleman said he voted for someone but he didn’t make up his mind until he actually went into the booth or whatever they do in NH. That scares me!
Being undecided is one thing but right up until the moment of casting your vote? That’s why they don’t allow electioneering within so many feet of the polling places.
I propose a new rule – no ads, phone banks, door-to-door etc. within 24 hours of an election. Give people time to sit down, sort out the whos and whats and how they want to vote without being influenced by what are mostly empty promises or lip service anyway.
Another development in NH that plays into what I think is going to happen. McCain’s own comeback. Romney’s slip.
I like Mike but I don’t think he is presidential yet. Could be. Might be. McCain is presidential. With the way things are starting to shape up here’s my idea or maybe it is a proposal.
McCain picks up steam. Raises more money. Challengers begin to fall by the wayside. Before he hits the big Super Tuesday primaries etc. he announces that: 1) he promises to only serve for one term (he’s 71 years old remember?) and 2) he has selected Mike Huckabee as his potential running mate. I think one or both of these would slingshot him way past Romney and put him in the cat-bird seat.
Just remember this post in a few months.
We’ll see how this whole thing shapes up after South Carolina soon.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Almost a Good Samaritan
New Years eve is ripe for interesting experiences and this past one was no exception.
I was returning from Pizza Hut with some pizzas, a few Cokes, a ½ gallon of ice cream and two of my younger daughters when we came upon some cars stopping in the road.
It was early but already dark so I saw taillights as I approached a curve atop a long hill. I pulled behind the few other stopped cars and turned on my flashers. It was obvious some sort of accident had occurred, just not how bad or what or who was involved. I told the girls to stay buckled while I went to check things out.
I noticed a woman standing to the side and she had blood running down her face. Somehow I got the mistaken impression that she was OK and that the guy running around with a cell-phone pressed to his ear, was her husband. I ran ahead to where I could see several people standing around a badly damaged pick-up to see if anyone was hurt. No one was so I turned around. As I walked back to my van I could see taillights far away down the hill in a pasture.
I stopped back by the bleeding woman and tried to get her to sit down. She said she was afraid she might not get back up. I checked on my girls and called my wife.
The scene quickly became a traffic mess with dozens or cars trying to get by, the arrival of several emergency vehicles etc.
In all this no one seemed to be attending to the woman off to the side. I went back to see if she would get into my car to keep warm. She let me take her arm and I led her to the front seat. I explained to my girls and sort of introduced them although it wasn’t until later that I learned the woman’s name; Ashley. I sat with her for a couple of minutes, prayed for her, then I went looking for an EMT.
I told the first official looking woman I saw that I had an injured person in my car. Pretty quickly Ashley was attended to by this EMT and eventually three or four others. One climbed in the back-seat and asked my girls to move to the rear. They all began working on Ashley’s head and neck and put on a neck-brace.
I decided it might be better to stay outside while all this was going on. While I was in front of my car an EMT started across the road carrying a big stretcher-type board. He was looking to his right while to his left a car was coming up pretty fast. I jumped out in the road and yelled at the driver and put my hands up. He stopped and the EMT crossed. Then I got yelled at by a man in a Sheriff’s coat who told me to stay out of the road. That they had traffic under control and I was only confusing the drivers. I tried to explain that the EMT was about to be hit and I was getting the drivers attention. He told me again to stay out of the road.
The EMTs worked on Ashley for several minutes before they moved her from my car to the board thing which they used to carry her to a wheeled gurney. They got her loaded in the ambulance and that was that. But now I was still stuck with a Fire Truck in front of me, the road blocked and nowhere to go.
I walked to the Sheriff that had yelled at me and asked if I could go and he said I could and wished me Happy New Year. As I was pulling away the first EMT came over to tell me thanks for my help.
So with two very hungry girls, some cool pizza and melted ice cream we headed home, having spent perhaps an hour at the accident scene.
No one ever figured out exactly what happened except that Ashley apparently crested the hill, saw someone either in her lane or crossing the road and over-corrected causing her to lose control and careen several hundred feet down the hill. I’m amazed she made it out of her totaled car, up the hill, over some barb-wire fence and back to the accident scene.
I was returning from Pizza Hut with some pizzas, a few Cokes, a ½ gallon of ice cream and two of my younger daughters when we came upon some cars stopping in the road.
It was early but already dark so I saw taillights as I approached a curve atop a long hill. I pulled behind the few other stopped cars and turned on my flashers. It was obvious some sort of accident had occurred, just not how bad or what or who was involved. I told the girls to stay buckled while I went to check things out.
I noticed a woman standing to the side and she had blood running down her face. Somehow I got the mistaken impression that she was OK and that the guy running around with a cell-phone pressed to his ear, was her husband. I ran ahead to where I could see several people standing around a badly damaged pick-up to see if anyone was hurt. No one was so I turned around. As I walked back to my van I could see taillights far away down the hill in a pasture.
I stopped back by the bleeding woman and tried to get her to sit down. She said she was afraid she might not get back up. I checked on my girls and called my wife.
The scene quickly became a traffic mess with dozens or cars trying to get by, the arrival of several emergency vehicles etc.
In all this no one seemed to be attending to the woman off to the side. I went back to see if she would get into my car to keep warm. She let me take her arm and I led her to the front seat. I explained to my girls and sort of introduced them although it wasn’t until later that I learned the woman’s name; Ashley. I sat with her for a couple of minutes, prayed for her, then I went looking for an EMT.
I told the first official looking woman I saw that I had an injured person in my car. Pretty quickly Ashley was attended to by this EMT and eventually three or four others. One climbed in the back-seat and asked my girls to move to the rear. They all began working on Ashley’s head and neck and put on a neck-brace.
I decided it might be better to stay outside while all this was going on. While I was in front of my car an EMT started across the road carrying a big stretcher-type board. He was looking to his right while to his left a car was coming up pretty fast. I jumped out in the road and yelled at the driver and put my hands up. He stopped and the EMT crossed. Then I got yelled at by a man in a Sheriff’s coat who told me to stay out of the road. That they had traffic under control and I was only confusing the drivers. I tried to explain that the EMT was about to be hit and I was getting the drivers attention. He told me again to stay out of the road.
The EMTs worked on Ashley for several minutes before they moved her from my car to the board thing which they used to carry her to a wheeled gurney. They got her loaded in the ambulance and that was that. But now I was still stuck with a Fire Truck in front of me, the road blocked and nowhere to go.
I walked to the Sheriff that had yelled at me and asked if I could go and he said I could and wished me Happy New Year. As I was pulling away the first EMT came over to tell me thanks for my help.
So with two very hungry girls, some cool pizza and melted ice cream we headed home, having spent perhaps an hour at the accident scene.
No one ever figured out exactly what happened except that Ashley apparently crested the hill, saw someone either in her lane or crossing the road and over-corrected causing her to lose control and careen several hundred feet down the hill. I’m amazed she made it out of her totaled car, up the hill, over some barb-wire fence and back to the accident scene.
It’s Round Up Time
I always thought going on a round up would be fun and I almost got my chance.
Saturday morning December 29 found me doing my usual chores, which include walking our two Border Collies. As we came around one corner of our 40 acres, I began calling our male “Jake” so he wouldn’t harass the two steers we let wander our pasture. He responded but I noticed only one steer was standing in the corner. I had not noticed the other one anywhere on our walk. They are like twins – frick-and-frack, dumb-and-dumber – one doesn’t go anywhere without the other. I figured one had gotten out somehow so I took the dogs back to their pens, alerted everybody inside and headed back out to find the missing steer.
I spotted a place in the fence where he could have gotten through if he’d stuck his head far enough through and instead of backing up, kept moving forward. My wife had also heard a bunch of coyotes around 3 a.m. so I was worried they had chased him and in the dark, he simply went through or over the fence somewhere.
Our property backs up to and is also adjacent on the west side, to a large farm with perhaps 100 crossbred cows. Our steers are Holstein so they are distinctive in their markings. He was easy to spot with the other cattle. He can’t do any harm – he is a steer, which for the uninitiated means he can’t do the bull-thing anymore.
But I wanted to get him back where he belonged so back to the house to get our team together. My wife, my 24 year-old-daughter and her fiancé, Caleb headed out to see what we could do.
For about 30 minutes we chased him around a rather large pasture with my driving our 4 wheel-drive pick-up and the others trying to head him toward a make-shift gate. We never made it.
A neighbor rides and trains cutting horses so my wife wondered about asking him to help. I hate asking people for help – not so much a pride thing as I don’t want to be a bother. But I drove down. He was home and seemed almost eager to get in some practice.
A few minutes later he, his wife and Caleb are saddled-up and ready to go. My job, as the non-rider in this group was to make sure we could get the gate open when they got close.
It took them about 15 minutes to separate our steer from the herd and move him toward the road and the gate. Once on the road he has pretty well confined with fences on either side. A few minutes later and he is back at our place. A few more minutes later and my wife has him and his buddy in a stall in the barn.
Later that day Caleb and I spent a few hours clearing brush and trees off an old fence which also may have afforded the dumb steer a way of escape.
The moral of this story - if there is or should be one is: using the right tools is important and in this case that meant the old-fashioned way; horses. Also the old adage “Good fences make good neighbors” works more than one way. And I guess one more; don’t be afraid to ask for help.
Thanks Carl, Lesia and Caleb for being our “cowboys” and “cowgirls” today.
Saturday morning December 29 found me doing my usual chores, which include walking our two Border Collies. As we came around one corner of our 40 acres, I began calling our male “Jake” so he wouldn’t harass the two steers we let wander our pasture. He responded but I noticed only one steer was standing in the corner. I had not noticed the other one anywhere on our walk. They are like twins – frick-and-frack, dumb-and-dumber – one doesn’t go anywhere without the other. I figured one had gotten out somehow so I took the dogs back to their pens, alerted everybody inside and headed back out to find the missing steer.
I spotted a place in the fence where he could have gotten through if he’d stuck his head far enough through and instead of backing up, kept moving forward. My wife had also heard a bunch of coyotes around 3 a.m. so I was worried they had chased him and in the dark, he simply went through or over the fence somewhere.
Our property backs up to and is also adjacent on the west side, to a large farm with perhaps 100 crossbred cows. Our steers are Holstein so they are distinctive in their markings. He was easy to spot with the other cattle. He can’t do any harm – he is a steer, which for the uninitiated means he can’t do the bull-thing anymore.
But I wanted to get him back where he belonged so back to the house to get our team together. My wife, my 24 year-old-daughter and her fiancé, Caleb headed out to see what we could do.
For about 30 minutes we chased him around a rather large pasture with my driving our 4 wheel-drive pick-up and the others trying to head him toward a make-shift gate. We never made it.
A neighbor rides and trains cutting horses so my wife wondered about asking him to help. I hate asking people for help – not so much a pride thing as I don’t want to be a bother. But I drove down. He was home and seemed almost eager to get in some practice.
A few minutes later he, his wife and Caleb are saddled-up and ready to go. My job, as the non-rider in this group was to make sure we could get the gate open when they got close.
It took them about 15 minutes to separate our steer from the herd and move him toward the road and the gate. Once on the road he has pretty well confined with fences on either side. A few minutes later and he is back at our place. A few more minutes later and my wife has him and his buddy in a stall in the barn.
Later that day Caleb and I spent a few hours clearing brush and trees off an old fence which also may have afforded the dumb steer a way of escape.
The moral of this story - if there is or should be one is: using the right tools is important and in this case that meant the old-fashioned way; horses. Also the old adage “Good fences make good neighbors” works more than one way. And I guess one more; don’t be afraid to ask for help.
Thanks Carl, Lesia and Caleb for being our “cowboys” and “cowgirls” today.
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