The Right Reasons: The Right Reasons -> An Invincible Summer

“Your greatness is measured by your kindness; your education and intellect by your modesty; your ignorance is betrayed by your suspicions and prejudices, and your real caliber is measured by the consideration and tolerance you have for others.” ~William J. H. Boetcker


I promised it would never happen to me and I meant it. But the other day I couldn't help myself. "Remember the good old days, " I whined to my husband, "when exaggerating your accomplishments to whomever would listen was considered ill-mannered and boorish—not a path to upward mobility? Where did that humble virtue known as modesty go? It's just not trendy anymore." He harrumphed and nodded. When you start whining about the good old days, and your husband is capable of harrumphing...you are officially old. But I don't mind. I'm getting old and I know it for a fact: Modesty is dead. Like chivalry. And table manners.

We'd just finished listening to President Obama apologize for all of us in the country and then go on to tout his amazing new approach to dealing with everyone in the world. He pranced around, kissing rings and handing out ipods and making promises about all the things we used to do that we wouldn't be doing and all the things we didn't do that we'd be doing now—even if they weren't any different than what had happened previously. Afterall, he was the one they'd been waiting for.

I've always been taught that when you are a leader the buck stops with you. When things go wrong, you don't blame it on your team, you don't make excuses about being tired, you don't point out constantly that this really isn't your problem you inherited it. You suck it up and take responsibility you offer clear coherent solutions based on analysis of why it happened in the first place.

And when you are the leader, and things go right you give the credit to your team. And your predecessor. And your predecessor's predecessor. That is modesty. Instead, I was listening to the President talk about how ashamed he was of the country and by extension the people he represented. He acted ashamed to be associated with us and our horrible little ignorant, uncultured, inelegant selves. And doggonit, just so these important folks knew...he promised to fix us so we aren't embarrassing anymore. I guess that would cover the "change" part of his vision. It isn't Washington that is going to change, it is you and me.

I've also been taught that actions speak louder than words—what you say makes little difference, it is what you actually do that matters. A little less talk, a lot more action. Git 'er done. That is modesty. But day after day, the President is telling us things about his experience and his vision and his beliefs and how he is going to do this better than ever before—the most this and the most that— and then goes out the next day and completely fumbles the play or does the exact opposite of what he said he would do. I guess this is the "hope" part of his vision. He is hoping we stop at believing what he says and don't use it to measure what he does.

This makes me enormously frustrated and the thing that I've been struggling with the past few days is why people continue to support someone who is so completely immodest? Someone who would inflate his own accomplishments, write two autobiographies before the age of 50 and offer himself as the solution to the world's problems? Someone with a fragile core elegantly wrapped in a thin record of accomplishments and a thick layer of ego?

I work with people much younger than myself and have for quite a few years now. Most of them wouldn't know modesty if it bit them. They talk about how this project will be the greatest thing ever and the amazing accomplishments they've had over the few years of their careers. They talk incessantly about "my" style and "my" talents. People who disagree, or see it in another way are "stupid" or they "just don't get it." They don't listen...they just talk. Every thought that enters their head is an important or profound thought. Every idea new, cutting edge and ground breaking. They are the ones they've been waiting for. And if they are in a company led by people like themselves they are promoted on the basis of their self-promotion, rather than the results of their work. Insecurity-camouflaged-as-social-networking at its ugliest.

I've come to the conclusion that the death of modesty is not limited to this countries elite circles—it's pretty much dead everywhere. We may have instinctively known all this during the campaign, but I don't think his supporters did or ever will...because they too are immodest. I saw a new bumper sticker on a car belonging to a member of the young and the restless the other day that summarized this perfectly. It featured the "Yes we can" poster but underneath it read "Yes we did." Did what? Won an election? Big deal. Now you've got it...what are you going to DO with it?

Deep down, many are so incredibly insecure about what they stand for and who they are that they must constantly puff themselves up in front of others. They just want to be loved and noticed. That's all. Just like President Obama. Jules Renard probably said it best when he said, "It is easy for a somebody to be modest, but it is difficult to be modest when one is a nobody.” There are an awful lot of people out here today, that believe themselves to be nobodies and as a result are trying to talk people into seeing them as somebodies.

It's no wonder that people who behave in this way support a President who is exactly like themselves. For them, the President just "gets it." The problem is when we lose our humility, our modesty we can not treat others with genuine respect. We don't ask or explain our requests, we demand. We don't actually try to understand, we try to convince. We don't strive to adhere to principle, we apologize for not being perfect.

I don't know when we lost our modesty. Maybe it was when we decided that no matter what happened, we were not going to get old and irrelevant and instead just simply tossed out the "older and wiser" part of the aging process. Maybe it was when we started valuing looking good over feeling good and abandoned our characters for taut skin and pouty lips. Or maybe it was when we started promoting self esteem over accomplishment and lavished ourselves with praise for simply trying to do something. Anything. You know. Hope. And Change. Over ideas and action plans. The stuff with consequences and learning curves.

What I do know is that we are weaker and uglier as a result. Without a measure of modesty, we are simply the rich, spoiled bratty kid on the block, who brags about all the things he'll never actually do. Who looks good but never feels good. And thinks himself to be God's gift to the universe.

I miss the good old days.

Laughter is the closest distance between two people. ~Victor Borge

This Thanksgiving holiday has been filled with a lot of laughter around my house. Lots of guffawing and goofiness. I thought I'd count my laughter blessings tonight as I face heading back to a busy work week tomorrow. Here are fifty things that make me laugh.

1. When I say something completely idiotic so earnestly it hurts.
2. My husband's ability to tell a mundane story with such flair and humor that you wish you'd been there—and then remember you were.
3. Packs of teenage boys standing around the living room trying to look cool for no particular reason.
4. Clever, unexpected puns.
5. Pug puppies—as long as they belong to someone else.
6. My father's giggle.
7. My nearly 12-year old daughter's sardonic wit.
8. The look on my children's faces when their grandparents tell an off color joke.
9. Three year olds.
10. The Smoking Gun's World's Stupidest Criminals.
11. The Right Reason's Porch.
12. SaveLiberty's Chicken Train Stories
13. PJ O'Rourke
14. Hugh Laurie and Blue Collar TV.
15. Feet.
16. Finding wrappers from Halloween candy stuffed into the sofa cushion. (Don't tell the kids.)
17. The fail blog.
18. Car and Driver's letters to the editor section, Backfires, and last page of the magazine: Franz Kafka's Garage.
19. Pickles. Extra funny points: Relish.
20. Infomercials. ShamWow!
21. Bob Newhart.
22. Wise and Otherwise, late at night.
23. Dennis Miller and Baxter Black.
24. Pookies Toons
25. Anything remotely funny in a place where laughing is extremely inappropriate.
26. Bloom County—even after all these years.
27. Farside. Still.
28. Music and Lyrics. Andrew Rigley gets his revenge with a little help from a tight-panted Hugh Grant.
29. Rheo
30. Victor Borge
31. Car Talk. Yes, I know its NPR.
32. Sandra Boynton Board Books
33. Hiccups
34. The phrase "a whole 'nother"
35. W's malaprops. (I find them enormously endearing, but then I like The Rivals too.)
36. Galaxy Quest. Never give up, never surrender.
37. Beginning band concerts.
38. The Match Game.
39. The Onion.
40. I Can't Dance.
41. The Dick Van Dyke Show. I still want to be Laura.
42. Blooper reels.
43. The word fiduciary
44. Chuck
45. JuJubes
46. Psyche
47. The Philadelphia Story
48. Hot Fudge Marshmallow Milkshakes.
49. Our hometown Christmas Parade
50. Other people laughing.

So...what makes you laugh?

We tend to forget that happiness doesn't come as a result of getting something we don't have, but rather of recognizing and appreciating what we do have. ~Frederick Keonig

This is a slight departure for me. I tend to endlessly edit my blog posts and try to carefully construct my thoughts. But this time I'm going to just "stream of consciousness" share some food traditions from our family. I am blessed with three fantastic families all of which feature astonishingly good cooks from whom I constantly learn. It is also a reminder of why I should go right now and renew my Weight Watchers membership.

It's not so much about the food, but what the food symbolizes—generations of men and women carefully tending their family traditions to provide continuity over the years. It's truly blessing and something we are carefully passing on to our own children.



This is an example of the culinary talents of my stepmother, Nana Kaleidokid.* I am especially fond of her Corn Ring with Creole Sauce which is a traditional Thanksgiving dish in her family. It adds a nice flavor and texture contrast to the more traditional, heavier dishes we tend to eat at Thanksgiving and Christmas and has quickly become one of my absolute favorites.


Nana Kaleidokid is also one of the world's greatest candy makers. Every Thursday night, we meet up with the Kaliedokids at Taco Bell for dinner to gossip and talk about politics and generally catch up. The staff has gotten to know us over the years and they often train new tellers on us. But one of the most fun moments ever, was when they were presented with one of Nana's dozens of Christmas Candy plates heaping full with everything from fudge to peanut brittle to almond roca. She makes them for all the neighbors, the hair dresser...everyone she can possibly think of. My husband, Tzchaen has come up with a fantastic "refill strategy" whereby he complains that the rest of us ate all of it so fast he didn't get any. This usually means he gets an entire batch of fudge to himself. Suck up.



My MIL, Chickadee*, is also a fabulous cook. She excels not only at making delicious and satisfying food, but in delicious and satisfying food for a crowd. It is not unusual to have thirty people at Grandma Chickadees' for a regular weekend dinner, so you can imagine what holidays can be like. I get a real kick out of cooking with her, because she is short and I am tall. We've divided labor over the years and I cover the high shelves and she covers the low shelves. We've really gotten it down to an art and I feel honored to be part of the process. Now lest you think that picture above is the extent of the feast, I'd like to give you a peak at the hor d'oeuvres table being set up and imagine not only all of this...but the kitchen and breakfast nook also covered in fabulous food. We're talking quality and quantity.



Strangely, hidden in this extensive feast is my very favorite dish from Thanksgiving and Christmas at Chickadee's house—a little unsung hero that I look forward too every year holiday season: Christmas Cran-Raspberry Jello Don't tell, but sometimes, when no one is looking I make a pan of it in the summer. This is particularly fun to make with kids and grandkids.



Because I love contrasting textures, flavors, colors and temperatures in food and I enjoy the "pacing" of a meal...this humble jello dish is like a quiet and cool island of sanity in the midst of a meal exploding with excitement. It's the comma in the middle of a two clause sentence.

Now I know Grandma Chickadee well enough to know that she will say...why did you pick the JELLO, Polly! So I should also say that she is amazing at creating non-traditional experimental Thanksgiving dinners as well. One year, we all got together and had a soup buffet. It included Auntie Chickadee's Corn Chowder, Grandma Chickadee's Andalusian Gazpacho, my Curry Carrot Soup, the very traditional baked potato soup and several more. We feasted on soup and bread until we could no longer stand up. But the hit of the day was Grandma Chickadee's West African Peanut Soup. If you do not have anyone with peanut allergies in your family, don't mind a little extra work and enjoy food with a little attitude...you've got to try this!






My mother, Innocent65*, is of Scandinavian heritage. Therefore, many of the traditions I grew up with come from the there. Without question, though, she is the best Mashed Potato maker in the history of the universe. She and I enjoy cooking and entertaining together. The top photo is our Thanksgiving table, while the bottom two are from Christmas dinner.

Several years ago, I put together a cookbook with my great aunt and second cousin which featured my great grandmother's Christmas Recipes and traditions. For years, I hated rice pudding, but when my great aunt made it, I discovered just how amazing a GOOD rice pudding is and I've been making it for Christmas every year since. I even use the beautiful serving spoon she gave me, and a pedestal bowl I received from another great aunt. Here is my great grandmother's recipe.



In Norway, an almond is hidden in the pudding and the recipient is promised good fortune and given a small gift. We still do this. My great aunt also says that whoever finds it has to wash the dishes, which apparently has some basis in Norwegian tradition. My mother also makes Krumcake and Spritz which we generally have on Christmas Eve with homemade Peppermint ice cream.



We also have a traditional Christmas morning breakfast which features my mom's Christmas Breakfast Cake This was several years ago and clearly the children are enjoying having their picture taken. (I may need to apologize to my son for that sweater.) Personally, I like this cake with strawberries.








All of these wonderful meals are followed with fun and good conversation. Sometimes, we go out and do something fun. The first photo is of Mr. Chickadee and my husband, Tzchaen* working hard on their RC boats, which seem to require two hours of "tweaking" for every five minutes on the water. Same goes for their RC cars. But we all have a great time hanging out and playing. This was a post-Thanksgiving activity from a few years ago. The second photo is two hours after finishing dinner and a couple cups of coffee...we're still sitting around the table talking and listening to stories from my great aunt and uncle, who are my real life heroes. They are some of the coolest people ever. When I was about twelve years old, we'd go to the IHOP for Sunday breakfast and my Great Uncle would announce to the waitress that they were all here for breakfast, and that "this young lady was Miss Teenage America and she will be eating with is." Way down deep, this couldn't-get-out-of-my-own-way-all-arms-and-legs-glasses-and-braces girl always hoped one of them would actually believe it.





Finally our hometown Christmas parade is held each year on the first Saturday of December. In the last thirteen years that it has been happening, we've only missed one. And the first one was the best. It was comprised of the local fire and police department and some horses. Halfway through the parade it disappeared completely. There was a call to a fatality collision on the local highway and within seconds...it was gone. Most amazing thing I've ever seen.

Since then its grown. And we've tried to convince our children that afterwards, we should go somewhere nice for hot chocolate. They still insist that we go to Dairy Queen (because it's tradition) and we sit there for an hour with red noses and ears, drinking cheap hot chocolate and sneaking candy out of their bulging pockets.

So that's about it.

Just some gratuitious pictures of food and a few glimpses of our treasured activites. I have a feeling they are not all that much different than any of yours—which is one of the things that makes this country so great. Underneath our varied countries of origin, our family traditions, our religion, our politics, we are all Americans.

And that is a tie that truly binds. It's good to be thankful. Again.



* All family members are referred to in this piece by their TRR screen nick...or that of the participating spouse if they are not a member.

Life has taught me to put my faith in the uncounted millions who may never run for office, pass a bill, or craft a sound bite, but who fight our wars and embody the ideals worth fighting for.—Bob Dole

It’s tough in some respects. What we have to do is tell our friends around the world that we will be proud of America because of what we’re going to do. —John McCain

For the first time in my adult life, I am proud of my country, because it feels like hope is making a comeback. —Michelle Obama

I admit it. Those statements got my knickers in a twist. They provoked an intense emotional reaction that crept up the back of my neck and left me sputtering in disgust. There comes a point, however, when one's desire for internal peace and understanding requires a significant reduction in outrage. In addition, I value intellectual honesty and it's hard to concentrate on that when you can't sit still due to bunched knickers.

So, I revisited the issue. On rereading, I realized that the media had, as they so often do, eloquently removed essential context. They see their sole purpose in life to provide context, so perhaps they felt the actual context was redundant. In any case what was reported, and how it was intended, are clearly two different things.

I'm no fan of Michelle Obama, and it pains me a bit to defend her, but I get what she means. It wouldn't be honest if I didn't admit that I had exactly the same feeling she describes when Ronald Reagan was elected. I felt that way when George W. Bush was elected. I will unabashedly hang onto those feelings with pride for the rest of my life. I am grateful to have had them.

I'm no fan of John McCain either. But I understand what he was trying to say. We need to actually do what we say we are going to do. When we don't, it's uncomfortable. I disagree with him on the middle of the Iraq war, but we completely agree on the goal and I cringe every time I think about us abandoning the infant democracy that is Iraq. America should NEVER abandon our friends. We did that in Viet Nam, I will be horrified if we do that again. And that may very well be impetus enough for him to get my vote.

With my knickers returned to comfortable smoothness and my outrage button flipped to "hold on a second"...I started thinking about what it means to be proud of our United States. I believe we often confuse two things: Our ideals and our less than perfect implementation of them. By separating this out, I am able to more articulately identify the sometimes conflicted feelings we have about our country.

1. We can ALWAYS be proud of the ideals. That is really what it means to be proud of the United States of America. We were founded on principles that are timeless and right. In fact, this country is unique in this world, in that it is held together by ideas rather than ethnicity, heritage or region and for all of our shortcomings, that is a pretty amazing concept. That is what our flag stands for, and there is never any question that it is something of which we can all be unabashedly proud. If you do not believe in the founding principles of our country, then it is probably time to find another country. But even when we disagree on implementation, when we agree on the ideals, we are Americans.

2. We are sometimes embarrassed, even ashamed, by the execution of our principles. Sometimes that manifests itself in things that are almost inexplicable. Certainly slavery and our inhumane treatment of Native Americans are good examples of this. Rather than actually apply our principles to all people, we twisted our own ideals around to rationalize our own behavior...thus making a mockery of them. Anytime this happens, I am ashamed. I am also embarrassed by certain personal failures of people who represent us. People like Bill Clinton come to mind. There are plenty of others. But they don't make me ashamed of America. They make me ashamed of them as representative of America.

3. We can be embarrassed by certain things the American People do It doesn't matter if you are a leader or a citizen, when we do not personally live up to the ideals and start behaving in a whiny, entitled way. Hurricane Katrina was an embarrassment, not because of our leadership or our country, but because of the way the average people responded out of helplessness and screamed out of a sense of entitlement. When our children start to believe that not dining at Burger King three nights a week somehow makes us "almost like a third world country" and their parents pout because gas costs almost half as much as the rest of the world pays, that makes me ashamed ourselves. We have SO much and we are not nearly grateful enough. That doesn't mean we don't need to fix those things, it just means that we need to fix those things, not someone else.

4. What the American People can accomplish is amazing. We have people representing this country who are some of the most amazing, compassionate, grateful, happy people on earth. MANY of them are in the military. Some are in the Peace Corps. Most are just every day people, our neighbors, doing the right thing. I am proud of America when I see the Space Shuttle land, or a family frolicking in the park. I feel that way when I watch neighbors spontaneously helping each other in times of crisis and just because we believe in being neighborly. I feel that way every time I turn on my computer and hang out with a bunch of like minded Americans talking to each other about the things they believe in. We are an amazingly ambitious bunch. Remembering that helps us focus on what is right about America and by beholding, we become changed. If we concentrate on the bitterness, we will be bitter. If we concentrate on the goodness, we will be better.

5. The ONLY way to be proud of this country, is to be the kind of American you want America to be. Being proud of America is taking personal responsibility for it—not standing around and waiting for someone else (especially our elected officials) to make it the America we think it should be. If the United States is of the people, for the people, by the people...then it is each of us who makes America something to be proud of. We must live American in our own neighborhoods, in our own families, in our own local and state governments. Every single moment of our lives is the living breathing embodiment of American ideals. It's a lot harder than whining and casting blame and sitting helplessly outraged. It is also an astonishing opportunity for self-determination and we owe it to our children and our grandchildren to not fritter it away.


Last Thursday, my family and I attended the local summer demo derby. All local, all cheesy all sleeveless T-shirts and tank tops, beer and greasy curly fries, mullets and bleach blondes. Young and old, rich and poor, white collar and blue collar, all ethnicities.

It was a beautiful day and after a rousing cheer for the NG and Active Duty folks in attendance, hundreds of us stood in the stands, hands on hearts as national anthem rang out in the lengthening light through the fresh dusty air, and over the beautiful green fields and gray-blue mountains. Here I was on a Thursday evening—not hungry, not cold, not worrying about someone finding out what I really believed, or coming and taking my family away in the middle of the night.

We were there to cheer on our fellow Americans as they ground good old American Iron into a pulp for our entertainment—because we can. We have the luxury of not having to scrap for every little bit of life. We have the luxury of having fun. We have the luxury of not having to take every little thing seriously.

And I just couldn't help myself. I was just so grateful—and proud—to be American.

“A hidden connection is stronger than an obvious one.” ~Heraclitus of Ephesus


First of all, a confession: I'm an unabashed Match Game era Richard Dawson fan. I'm fascinated by the interactions between the celebrities, the contestants and the audience. So a few weeks ago I was watching a Match Game marathon on the Game Show Network while plowing through stacks of Memorial Day weekend dishes. It featured Military contestants, so I could justify it all on a patriotic basis.

During one of the breaks, the hosts interviewed a contestant who won $6000 on the show. He shared a fascinating tidbit: On the day of taping, he bumped into Dawson in the hall near the Green Room. Dawson said: "If you want to win, pick either Charles or myself in the final round. We want you to win. Everyone else wants to make themselves look good."

Dawson was right. He had an uncanny ability to match contestants answers. He didn't say much, he was grumpy, he didn't seem to hold his fellow celebrities in much regard and they didn't love him all that much—and yet he won more money for regular people than everyone else combined and the audience loved him.

But it really wasn't the winnings that made him popular—it was that despite his grouchy sarcastic self, he instinctively understood the glasses through which each contestant viewed the world. He listened to their profiles, watched to see how THEIR thought processes worked and then he applied that filter to whatever answer he gave. He knew that winning money for the contestant would make him more popular in the long run, than a witty answer and the instant gratification you get from a spontaneous audience response. In other words, he connected with the contestants on a far deeper level then the rest of the celebrities because he actually cared about outcome more than he cared about himself.

I've thought a lot about that as I've watched Obama accept his party's nomination. Which kind of a celebrity is he? Does he actually connect with people on the campaign trail, genuinely tapping into their hopes and dreams and seeing the world through their filter? Or is he simply a charismatic charmer, who is clever enough to make elites feel good about themselves by acknowledging them with a wink and a nod on the backs of the little guy...all the while razzle dazzling the hoi palloi with high minded-mind numbingly-emotional vapid-talk?

And how does McCain measure up? McCain is definitely not known for compelling speech making and although he has a better command of his own positions and the facts, there is not one ounce of razzle dazzle there. I'd even settle for a tiny little sparkle. But does he connect with people face to face? Is he really in this for us?

I wish I had an answer. I don't yet. But there is a way to find one, perhaps long before most other people and FAR before the press gets it: Turn off the sound on your tv and start watching the body language of the candidate in relationship to the people on the campaign trail.

C-Span has On the Road segments where you can watch the candidates meet and greet without commentary. That is the perfect place to start. Despite what the press was saying in 2000 and 2004, observing the candidates interact with real people in swing states made it obvious who would win the election. You could see President Bush genuinely connecting with people—even people who were initially visibly skeptical were drawn in by his focus on them. (And lest you think I'm biased, it transcends party and ideas, because Bill Clinton has this same uncanny ability.) It is obvious when you contrast that with Al Gore's stiff, formal, pompous interaction, or John Kerry's cool self-conscious aloofness—men who try to fake warmth with a handshake and a smile as they pass by unimpressed people on the street. (Or on our side, George H.W. Bush, who always seemed like he couldn't wait to get home and get back out on the boat.)

In the end, barring some huge bombshell, this election will be about the same thing—Which one do we really connect with? The jury may still be out on Obama and McCain, but it won't take long to discover what is really happening. We've just got to quit listening to see which candidate is doing this because he wants us to win and which one wants to make himself look good. The answer to that question may not be pretty, but at least it won't come as a surprise—and it may even give us a glimmer of hope.

Thanks Dawson.

“True friends stab you in the front.” ~Oscar Wilde


Scott McClellan has been on my mind a lot this week, an uncomfortable thing in and of itself. For the first few moments after the news of his newly released book broke on the 24/7s—along with the obligatory gongs, flashing crawls and breathless bimbos—I was concerned about the impact. But it took only a few hours to realize there wasn't anything new—no stunning revelations, no bombshells, no titillating facts. McClellan's book is simply the Readers Digest Condensed version of the last seven years at The Daily Kos. It was all quite pedestrian.

That makes the only new element in this story...Scott McClellan. The accusations aren't new, only the fact that the president's ex-press secretary believes them. The stereotypes of the administration aren't new, only the fact that the president's ex-press secretary believes them. The incompetence of Scott McClellan isn't even new, only that the president's ex-press secretary believes that isn't his fault. Very clearly Scott had to know this. He must have understood that he would be the story.

Which is why I was shocked when he said that this experience had shown him who his real friends are.

Many of us were exasperated during McClellan's tenure in the Bush Administration. I certainly was. I believe that his inability to think on his feet, and his lack of humor actually cost the administration dearly at a very critical point in the war. Despite that, I've always maintained that he was a nice enough guy who had been promoted above his ability and done the best he could under the circumstances. Just one more example of the famous—or infamous depending on your perspective—Bush loyalty. I never even thought to question McClellan's character, especially after the gracious send off the President gave him:

"One of these days he and I are going to be rocking on chairs in Texas, talking about the good old days and his time as the Press Secretary. And I can assure you I will feel the same way then that I feel now, that I can say to Scott, job well done."

I rolled my eyes when the president said that. Well done, sure whatever. But we all understood that the President saw this man first as a friend who had served the country and the administration to the best of his ability irregardless of what he actually thought of McClellan's contribution to his team. We all understand that President Bush would never diminish or disrespect any friend—or foe—publicly.

Now contrast that with what the left had to say about him in Vanity Fair in 2006:

It’s this verbal haplessness that has made Scott McClellan—a pleasant, low-wattage, old-before-his-time young fellow, with, at 38, a wife, no children, and “two dogs and four cats”—the living symbol of this White House’s profound and, perhaps, mortal problem with language and meaning. McClellan himself, as though having some terrible social disability, has, standing miserably in the press briefing room every day, become a kick-me archetype. He’s Piggy in Lord of the Flies: a living victim, whose reason for being is, apparently, to shoulder public ridicule and pain (or, come to think of it, he’s Squealer from Animal Farm). He’s the person nobody would ever choose to be.

Jump ahead two years and we find those same people lapping up what Scott has to say—not because Scott has any credibility, but because he is willing to parrot their theories back to them and stab the gracious and loyal man that gave him an opportunity to learn on the job in the back. These are the people whom he has implicitly suggested are now his only friends. The very people who have no respect for him until he is useful to them.

I have only one message for Scott. You did have real friends. Friends who, to paraphrase Mark Twain, kept you away from those who tried to belittle your ambitions, because small people always do that, but the really great made you believe that you too could become great.

Sadly, you traded it all away for something far less valuable and with far less longevity, exposing your own lack of character in the process and leaving yourself to be little more than pudding in a suit.

You may want to give Cindy Sheehan a call to get some advice on how to handle what is coming next. Good luck with the new friends.

“It's a funny thing about life; if you refuse to accept anything but the best, you very often get it.” —William Somerset Maugham


We weren't looking for perfect. We really weren't. We were just looking for good enough. Instead, this election has left me as cold as a gecko in the middle of January. (Yes, I know it doesn't make sense, but we all have an inner Dan Rather.)

So how on earth did we end up with this third rate line up: Barak Obama, Hillary Clinton and John McCain. Three shallow candidates...one of which will be the next president of the United States.

To be fair, each of our current Presidential candidates brings strengths to the table.

Barak Obama has a proven track record of drawing enormous crowds by extemporizing on the cutting edge political concept of change—the kind of change you hear about all over this land on Oscar Night and in High School graduation speeches.

Hillary Clinton is tenacious. She has stayed with the battle much longer than lesser men, fighting for her right—and the right of her sisters— to use their husband's experience for the betterment of mankind.

And John McCain—A man who apparently has spent most of his adult life trying to do the Lord's work in the city of Satan. (Where did THAT one come from?!) Well, he has certainly made a lot of deals with the devil over the years.

Fundamentally entertaining traits, all. So what is it that leaves me cold, and worse yet, bored?

It's simple. This election is about identity politics and the fear of losing—neither of which I have much of a vested interest in.

If you are young or black or are in love with the romance of change, man, Barak is your guy hands down. But I am middle aged and white and old enough to have learned that the whole concept of change is completely overrated because its going to happen no matter what you do anyway. I look for a candidate who understands just how blessed they are to be in this country, who sees potential that is built on the past, not built despite it. Who doesn't force change as a solution to grievances, but understands our task is to manage natural change effectively. Who shows a little gratitude for what they have and some respect for the folks who helped them get it. I tend to look for steadiness, and experience and character—and I don't care if you are tall, or short or black or white or male or female because we all start to look kind of funky as we get older and at the end of the day, we are more alike than we are different.

If you are a woman done wrong by a man in any way, shape or form well, Hillary is your candidate d'jour. She has been cheated on, beaten on, and dealt an unfair hand in everything she does based on her sex, but dammit, she's a survivor. If someone will just give her a chance, she will prove to us all that she is more right than any of those mean old boys. That won't be me, though. I have a strange belief that everyone earns their own experience and that not standing up for oneself does not automatically give you special privileges to lead others. Survive is what we all do—rich, poor, weak and strong—and as a natural part of life it does not earn one purple hearts or special commendation. It just is.

If you believe that the only way to win is to get other people to like you and that you must have served in the military to lead it, John McCain reporting for duty. Unfortunately, I know from painful experience that trying to get other people to like you ends up in a mess more than it makes good. I also know that the best political leaders of military men are those who trust the ones that are doing the work NOW, not necessarily those who have had experience in the military at some time. Sadly, I have an increasing sense that a John is a John and that McCain is our Kerry. Same song, second verse.

Looking over this field of contestants, I wonder what we all did to deserve this. And more constructively, how we can avoid it next time we go down this road. I've come up with three things that I think are essential not only to winning, but to keeping our country great.

1. Character Matters. A presidential temperment means having the personal security to field the toughest questions calmly and rationally from the earliest days of the campaign. Get in, do the grunt work from the git go. Character does NOT mean the candidate has to be morally perfect. It means he or she must learn from their mistakes. Looking for morally perfect candidates basically ensures that we end up people so morally flawed no one cares anymore. We've got to get over that.

2. Identify on Substance. We've got to toss out the notion that what we look like on the outside is what makes us similar—but instead its the the basic virtues most Americans believe in that we have in common: Honesty, loyalty, perserverance, self-discipline, compassion, responsibility, friendship, work, courage and faith. We need to look for these qualities in ALL of our leaders, even if their political platforms differ from our own.

3. Winning isn't the Goal. Moving the ball down the field is. If we have nothing to show for our win, then why bother? If we are going to go to the trouble and expense of winning the Whitehouse, we need be self-disciplined enough to find someone decent to fill it with. Not someone perfect, but someone extraordinary. We WILL lose sometimes—but when we win, we will end up being forever grateful that we filled the position with a person up to the task of greatness.

This fall, I will take my meager little vote to the post office and mail it in in more ways than one. The best I can hope for is a very entertaining Democrat Convention and a Republican win in the fall. Perhaps I'm spoiled by the "most hated" man who currently holds the position—a man I would vote for again enthusiastically if I could. But I will simply count my blessings—and it is a tremendous blessing that we get to do this every four years even though we complain about it—and start looking for ways I can contribute differently to this process next time around.

And maybe I will be pleasantly surprised to discover that come November, our guy isn't all that bad. Perhaps McCain is good enough.

Until then, I think I'll just put on a sweater.

friend (frĕnd) pronunciation
n.

1. A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts.
2. A person whom one knows; an acquaintance.
3. A person with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause; a comrade.
4. One who supports, sympathizes with, or patronizes a group, cause, or movement: friends of the clean air movement.

In the interest of full disclosure, this is a pet-peeve fueled rant. It it neither substantive, nor strategic. It is purely superficial. At the same time, a compelling case might be made that the enitre misuse of "My Friends" is a good metaphor for the challenges Republicans face heading into the general election. I've been trying desperately to put my finger on why this irritates me so much. I've narrowed it down to three things.

1. Calling us "my friends" in this context is roughly the same as having someone you went to gradeschool with suddenly start addressing you as "my fiancee."
Yes, Senator McCain, we were your friends on occasion when you were just a Senator. We might have been, at times, even considered close. In fact, people from Arizona probably even think of you as a special friend. That's all fine. But this whole Presidential thing is a new and different context, and maybe it would be a good idea to allow us some time to get used to the concept before you start assuming certain things about our relationship. We may not have have chosen you for this position based on our "friendship" but instead something much more nebulous. We're not completely opposed to you, but at this point, your candidacy has all the romance and excitement of an arranged marriage. This is a big step, and we need a little time to rid ourselves of any silly notions we might have had about being excited about our candidate. Maybe you could slow down a little and wait for us to get used to the idea before you run off and rent the chapel. It will be a lot easier for both of us if you just stick with the slow dancing for awhile.

2. Calling us "my friends" assumes a certain ownership of our affections.
You often address us as your friends, in fact, you and your wife did so five times on my home answering machine last week. Let me be blunt with you. You do not own our loyalties, our friendship or even our support. It is your responsibility as a Presidential Candidate to EARN it. I will admit that you have a rocky path ahead of you, because we have quite a history together. Earning it now, will be harder than it is for someone we don't know quite as well. You don't have to give us everything we want to earn our votes, you don't have to sacrifice your principles to make us happy...you just can't take our relationship for granted. Our loyalty is a privilege to be earned, not an entitlement to be transferred.

3. We would rather be your fellow Americans than your friend.
Fellow Americans are equals who share a common goal. We can disagree we can argue and fight and come back at the end of the day and agree we are blessed to live in such a terrific country. Then we can plow ahead according to our conscience. Friends, on the other hand, learn to minimize the things on which they disagree in the service of harmony and out of respect for the relationship. That is healthy because the love of a friend trumps the need to agree. It is, however, deadly in politics. Our "friendship", can not gloss over the things on which we disagree. We need to openly discuss those things and come to terms with them so we don't end up with bigger issues later. Friends can be hurt and angered, while fellow Americans can simply disagree and go on. It keeps it all of this in appropriate perspective. Honestly, we will be much better support as fellow Americans than as friends because our expectations will be much more realistic

Now to be fair, perhaps you are using "My Friends" in the third definition sense. Or, even more innocently, as a creative substitue for "uhm" in your speeches and recordings. The truth is, however, that this is a difficult candidacy for many of us and Senator McCain, we need solid, forward thinking from you, demonstrated reasons to trust you, and a better understanding of your vision for the future, not just your irritation with the way things have been done in the past. Calling me your friend, is just not going to cut it. Treating me with respect, just might.

“It is defeat that turns bone to flint; it is defeat that turns gristle to muscle; it is defeat that men makes invincible” ~Henry Ward Beecher

I really don’t like to admit it, but deep down I have an inner Rodney King. That little bruised and completely bewildered part of me that looks at the world and asks “Can’t we all just get along?”

Unfortunately, the cold-eyed realist in me knows we can’t. We’re human, we’re selfish, we’re needy. We are, frankly, pretty awful. But underneath it all, each of us has an enormous capacity to learn from our mistakes, pick up, dust off and plow forward—all the while getting stronger. And that is where we find ourselves at TheRightReasons.

Nearly a year ago, I was part of an idealist group of FreeRepublic refugees who washed up on the shores of WideAwakes. Now here we are—this time, for the right reasons. A little less idealistic, a little more experienced—but no less optimistic about the future of our country or our party.

I have learned a few things along the way.

First, this election is a monumental challenge for the Republican Party. Conservatives and moderates—intent on scapegoating each another for recent election defeats—have lost site of the progress we’ve made in the last fifteen years in a futile search for perfection. That’s easy to do when your team doesn’t play as well as we’d like, or a compromise made over a sacred cow. We must, however, step back from the blame and recrimination and remember what it is we have in common, to recollect what made fiscal and social conservatives allies for so many years, and to reconnect with our core values.

Second, I have a newfound respect for—and understanding of—the role of conscience and conviction in the voting process. I whole-heartedly signed on to the I’ll support the GOP candidate without question line of thinking without considering what would happen if the party picked a candidate I have significant reservations about. If nothing else—and without regard to what I decide to do in November— I will be a better person for navigating this challenge. It goes to the role of character and integrity in American politics, something on which all sides have lost perspective for far too long.

Finally, disagreeing with the most deeply held beliefs of another is no vice, and the process of exploring those disagreements is often the very core of the strengthening of our own. At the same time, friendship is a two person coalition built on commonalities. To build both, one must rely on civility and respect, look for the opportunities to come together and acknowledge the places where we can not. What has become clear to me, is that the key to success in this endeavor, is not to demand civility and fairness from others, but to insist on it from oneself. That is by far the more difficult task.

So we begin again, with a little experience tucked under one arm, and our hopes, dreams and goals tucked under the other. We are going to make mistakes. We are going to have moments of weakness, confusion and frustration. We are not going to all just get along. But perhaps at the end of the day, we will have made a little progress—and that will mean we are bruised and bewildered for all the right reasons.