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Monday, I watched the political theater of Judge Amy Barrett sitting in front of a group of Senators from both parties. They would preen ad nauseum for the camera for days. The lower part of Barrett's face was masked in Hannibal Lecter fashion, eyes sharply observing the spectacle before her. Fortunately, they let her take the mask off the rest of the week. Monday must be a bad day for China bug spreading.
Democrats hyper-ventilated Barrett would snatch away medical care from “American citizens.” (Dems must have finally got around to reading what was in Obamacare.) It should be pointed out, in Democrat vernacular, the term “American citizens” only means those that didn’t vote for Trump, or about roughly half the country. The rest of us have faith Trump will come up with something fair and equitable to replace it that will be fought by the Dems anyway.
Religious dogma not being high on the list for most Democrats, due to that bothersome abortion matter, they tip-toed around Barrett’s Catholicism. But as the Roe v. Wade issue is very high on the list for any self-respecting liberal, they tried every conceivable way to get her to admit she was going to block their baby-killing mechanism. They also grilled her repeatedly if she was going to allow Trump to remain in office, after they had plotted so heavily to remove him.
Well, they didn’t say those things in that way, but that’s what they meant. Judge Barrett resolutely declined to take the bait.
Embarrassing the citizens of Illinois, yet again, the pretentious and pompous Dick Durbin sermonized a woman who was clearly his mental superior. Not to be outdone and displaying the intelligence level of a moron, Senator Hirono from Hawaii asked the Judge if she had ever committed sexual assault. It’s probably a good thing she didn’t ask me, as I’d be writing this commentary from prison.
Republicans took turns running interference on why Barrett is the second coming of Oliver Wendell Holmes. They also tried to justify why they are not guilty of being duplicitous over their refusal to vote on Merrick Garland four years earlier. Running out of questions, by Wednesday they were asking her about the Houston Astro’s cheating scandal and who does the laundry in the Barrett house.
It became apparent early on Barrett is more intelligent than most of the people interrogating her with their bloviations. By Wednesday she had pretty much removed all doubt. By the time you read this, she will probably be sitting in Ginsburg’s old chair, although they will have removed the two big books RGB had to sit on to see over her desk.
Congratulations Supreme Court Associate Amy Barrett.
On another political note:
What does your gut tell you when the Speaker of the House begins pushing the 25th Amendment just days before the next election?
Democrats, THINK they are voting for Biden (mostly because they hate Trump), completely ignoring his son’s emails. (Perhaps Hunter should have consulted Hillary) On the minute chance Biden gets elected, the Left Wing of the Swamp will quickly remove their candidate and replace him with a condescending Socialist nobody wanted to vote for back when she was slinging mud at Biden.
On October 9th Nancy Pelosi appeared before a news conference, nose repeatedly flopping over her mask, to announce the creation of a “Commission of Presidential Capacity” to preside over the 25th Amendment, outlining the removal of a president.
Since the House will not be in session until after the election, this plot can’t be another ploy to remove Trump from office…this term. Having failed in her impeachment hoax, even she realizes that dog will no longer hunt. But, in this ploy, she will get her cake and shove it in her pie hole too.
Her devious plan works regardless of who wins:
• If Biden wins, as the Swamp is plotting, she can subvert the will of the people – that would be Democrats - by having Biden banished to an assisted care facility, then insert Comrade KA-MALA Harris, or;
• If Trump wins, she can threaten him with the 25th Amendment every time he does something she doesn’t like – currently about every fifteen minutes. This will take the place of the impeachment hoax so hearings will go on non-stop. The media will be orgasmic.
Consider the irony. An eighty-year-old, likely alcoholic, House Speaker, older than both Biden and Trump, is now worried about the mental capacities of a forthcoming president. She and her Swamp cronies want to arbitrarily decide if someone else is fit to hold office. Many of us believe Pelosi is incompetent for office. Just last week, on ABC’s “The View” Nancy waved her arms and said “the president has always had erotic behaviors” when asked about a stimulus bill.
The California District Pelosi represents includes San Francisco, a cesspool consisting of only the wealthy and homeless. The Middle Class has been driven out of the city under her over-lordship, sort of like Communism. Streets are filled with homeless people, many with mental problems, who regularly perform bodily functions on the street. Drug use is rampant; the streets are littered with hypodermic needles. The wealthy have walled themselves off from the Great Unwashed.
Pelosi has done nothing in her role of Speaker of the House since Trump was elected, except to obsessively make the president’s life miserable, at our expense. One New York Post writer wondered if Pelosi had the hots for Trump. Pelosi is the poster child for term limits in Congress.
We need to drain the Swamp this election, folks.
Our son, Zach recently married his college sweetheart, Aly. I’m not much for emotions, except perhaps bouts of irritation or over-analytical thinking, according to the wife. This is in stark contrast to my wife and mother who bawled throughout the entire ceremony. My column today is from the perspective of a somewhat unsentimental, “Spock-like” father of the groom.
From my perch behind the clergyman, Zach’s fellow college classmate, I could see my sons face, roiling between sniffles and laughter in, evidently, a state of bliss. Our usually laid-back boy was ecstatic to be getting married and unable of controlling his emotions…right there in front of all those people! It was rather amusing.
Zachary is the youngest and only boy from our brood of four. Last to be born by five years, he’s also the last to get married. He and Aly had selected this date over a year ago, making plans to be married in a large venue with far too many guests for my tastes. I tried to talk them into a small ceremony up at Valhalla, you know it as Lambeau Field, but Aly ignored my pleas.
Unfortunately, their plans were made before the year 2020 was unleashed upon us, and results were as predictable as pigeons perched above a freshly washed car. China’s bug and governmental overreaction destroyed their dream. There would be no large, grand wedding this year, anywhere.
The young couple were left scrambling. Options included hope of no virus-induced pandemonium in 2021, or go with the original date in a modest format. Opting for the latter leads me to this account from a lawn chair under a tree in their backyard on a drizzly, cold Saturday afternoon. Could anything less be expected from 2020, the Year of the Pigeon? I kept one eye skyward just in case.
I reflected on his previous years. There was the 18-month-old baby whom his mama found in the bottom of a hot tub, but by the grace of God, came back to us in the hospital with the simple reply a duck says “quack, quack.” I thought of the young lad’s blonde mullet that would make any self-respecting hockey player envious, or the Mohawk in high school. The constant fights over a damn earring.
There were the years of anguish and pride with Little League baseball, Sam’s basketball, and Stars football, inducing me to leave my office early to help coach. Game days with my boy were magical, although I wondered if he ever knew it.
From there it was on to school activities, starting in three different sports, something his old man never came close to doing. He was a starting wide-receiver on a senior football team that came within one game of going to the championship in Champaign, perhaps a year neither of us will ever forget. I warmed just reflecting on it.
Sitting there in the light rain, I smiled again at the time we dropped him off for a college introduction weekend his junior year of high school. We left our impressionable son, whom surely rejected all the vices his old man experienced, off to see what college life would be like. On the way out of town I made a wrong turn and wound up on the backside of the dorm we left him – where he had a football in one hand and a beer in the other.
Surrounded by his college buddies, I bristled again for abetting the liberal “education” received in college. Universities should better regulate the expensive four-year party scam they are running. Like many others, our boy graduated from college somewhat indolent and disappointingly unprepared for work in business…sort of like a professor.
Fate was looking out for us though, as a stint in Vegas working, unexpectedly in logistics, so as to stay independent from us, was far more of an education. It properly prepared him for the career and responsibilities that lay before him, of which he now is becoming exceptionally proficient.
I realized the best thing coming from that college experiment was by far and away now standing in front of him, freezing and equally trying her utmost to control her emotions. Welcome to our family, Aly.
From my standpoint, my son and I aren’t as much alike as I thought we would be. He is an avid Packers and Cubs fan, knows his transportation business…but come on, man, rap music and dancing! It took me awhile to come to the realization I have a daughter much more like me than my son, and I’m okay with that, all these years too late.
I’m happy for our boy. In fact, I’m thrilled for all of our children. Our daughters have become solid (Trump-voting?) citizens and fantastic mothers themselves, although…they did have the perfect model to learn from. But now Zach and Aly have taken a momentous step in their lives, despite the incredible obstacles in the Year of the Pigeon. Like his sisters before him, they are now a team.
We done good, Dawn.