Obama

’80’s Nostalgia, Humor in Suffering, and Things I Never Thought I’d See in a Museum

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I thought it was weird when I saw the 1981 Reagan Limousine on display four years ago.  It was on display when I took Steve-o and his woman du jour to the Henry Ford Museum, lined up along with the Kennedy Assassination Limo and a string of other Presidential limos dating back to Roosevelt.  I need to make it a point to take a trip up there again soon, even though I absolutely hate the crappy roads in Detroit, and the Dearborn area is rather frightening even in the daytime.

Granted, this is a historical car- and technically it does belong in a museum- but the fact that the props (ok, artifacts) from events I remember as if they were yesterday are in museums is a bit disquieting.  As far as I’m concerned (yes, I know he died in 2004) Reagan should still be President, riding around in that limo.  I bet Reagan is spinning in his grave at the antics of his successors (Bill Clinton was bad enough- and a tomcat- but even though as far as anyone knows, he keeps his pants on, Obama is far worse) and that’s sad.   We could really use someone like Reagan today.  To quote a bumper sticker that I would put on the HK Yaris if I had enough room:

In the 80’s we had Bob Hope, Johnny Cash and President Reagan. Today we have No Hope, No Cash and President Obama.

I also like this one:

Put the Constitution on His Teleprompter!

I’m sure Obama could use some fresh new reading. 

The statement comparing the 80’s to today almost makes me depressed.  It makes me want to vote for Donald Trump, even though he’s no Reagan.  I like him better than the same old tired milquetoasts that have been dominating the Republican mainstream the past few years. Mitt Romney and Mike Huckabee are just plain too lame.  Like him, or hate him, The Donald has balls.  We need a President with balls. Obama has none.  I believe if he’s not directly in cahoots with terrorist nations and organizations, he’s not doing anything to stop them or even mitigate their actions.  He’s complicit with Black genocide in supporting abortion “rights” that are NOT the state’s to give and are clearly morally wrong.  Reagan was the last one who had the courage to call evil what it is and to do what was right even when it wasn’t popular.  I don’t know if Trump is in that league, but I think he is more aware of the right course for this country, at least in regard to economics and foreign policy, than Obama ever could be.  

The sad thing is back in the 90’s I didn’t think it could get any worse than Bill Clinton.  I was absolutely shocked at the dress-stain incident even though Clinton’s foreign policy (or the lack thereof) was even more devastating to the country than the shame he brought to the Oval Office.   Even so, if someone were to compare Clinton vs. Obama, I hate to say it, but I would take Bill Clinton in a heartbeat (which is disturbing clear down to my conservative Republican soul.)  If there is worse than Obama, and given human nature there is (even though we have not seen it in an American President, and I hope we never do) but- humanity gave us Stalin, Mao and Hitler after all.  I hope people aren’t dumb enough to vote for him/her.

One thing I also noted on our trip to the Henry Ford Museum was an exhibit on 80’s ephemera in which there was a Marlboro Lights 100’s pack, (now I don’t see that as historically worthy, but I smoked my share back then, so maybe so) and a collection of old vinyl records to die for by- Boston, Foreigner, The Police, Iron Maiden, Journey, and many other good ones.  The album art was so much better back then.  Someone actually had to draw them instead of just getting into some computer program and playing with it to make some funky design.   I still say the Journey Departure cover is one of the best:

We thought Defender was a “futuristic” video game.  Then again, we actually took quarters and went to the arcade to play video games and pinball. 

I still think it would be a much better world if Reagan were in the White House, and Neal Schon still had his fro.

Makes me wish it were 1981 again…only not as a geeky 12 year old who got beat up every day.  If it were 1981 and I knew what I do now it would be interesting.  I could have a lot of fun with that.

Speaking of Journey, I decided to go ahead and get my ticket for the show on August 5, even though it is at Crew Stadium (outside.)  I don’t generally like to go to outside shows because of the lack of A/C, but it starts at 7PM, so at least it’s not in the heat of the day.  Journey only makes it to Columbus every couple of years or so, and they aren’t getting any younger.  Neal Schon is pushing 60, Jonathan and Ross are over 60, and Arnel and Deen are both over 40, and given the lifespans of rock musicians, that’s not a comforting thought.  I should take any opportunity to see them that I can get. Foreigner and Night Ranger (also very good bands live) are opening for them, so this is a show worth having to contend with stygian heat and/or the prospect of torrential rain. The nice thing about this show is that it will be an older crowd.  Usually the over 40 set is not into throwing things, fighting or stealing stuff- and it’s reserved seats- so barring weather extremes, it should be a pleasant evening. 

Jerry has been on yet another trip on the self-pity express.  I don’t feel sorry for him.  He brings his own misery upon himself.  I do try to find the humor in it, otherwise I’d have to throttle him. 

Last night he decided to go to the hell hole again.  He staggered in around 10PM which was nice.  I had a quiet evening until he came home.  The best thing for me to do is to pretend I’m asleep.  He knows better than to try to wake me up- even when he’s shitfaced, usually- because I am rather nasty when I’m disturbed late at night.  If he sees that I’m awake he will torment me, and I’ll never get to bed, but if I stay under the radar he will usually prattle on to the walls (or Isabel if she is in view) about various unintelligible nonsense for an hour or so until he passes out.  I got lucky last night.  He was sprawled across the bed, pants down, snoring and near comatose before 11. 

Jerry has had many shitfaced conversations with poor Isabel.  According to him, she’s the only one who understands him when he’s shitfaced.  I never knew that cats could understand the ramblings of the insanely drunk. 

I should put a collar on Isabel with a speaker in it.  When Jerry’s shitfaced and talks to her, I could have her reply through her collar speaker.  It would be a hoot.

Jerry: “Whaats aff? Gotta pith…”  (falling over something)

Isabel: “Go to bed, shit head!”

Jerry: “Where’s foooooooooood?”

Isabel: “Shut up, or it’s gonna be up your ass.” 

That could be funny.  Isabel can out run him, and she always has the option of disappearing down the cat hole (there’s a cat-sized hole in the basement door for cat access so they can use the litter box, but the dogs can’t get to the litter box and use it as a snack bar) when she’s had enough of his “conversation.”

It’s “Be Thankful It Isn’t Any Worse” Day!

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With a tip of the hat to my fellow cynics and assorted other ne’er-do-wells like me, I’ve come to the conclusion that I should set aside a day to be thankful that things aren’t any worse.  For instance, if for some bizarre reason I were single and decided to troll the wonderful world of online dating, something like the above picture would be bound to show up, less the dog of course, as the dog would be his only redeeming feature.  I can just imagine the troll that some dating service would inevitably choose for me would actually look somewhat like the fashion-challenged ginger above, but would have a profile picture that looks something like this:

So much for truth in advertising. Of course, if he really did look like this, he’d have to be gay.  Straight men are never that hot.  So I should be grateful that Jerry is not nearly hot looking enough to be gay.  We all know what happened to the ugly gay guy. He had to date girls.

I am also thankful that I am sitting here in beautiful Central Ohio.  The weather here usually sucks to some degree, in some sort of way, but one thing we don’t get here are tsunamis.  If there were ever to be a tsunami massive enough to hit Columbus, rest assured that most of the rest of the world has been knocked out too.  We do get floods (frequently, but localized) and tornados, and snow storms on a regular basis, which can be bad enough, but even in the worst of the recent Downtown floods, I’ve never seen anyone in German Village floating on their house ten miles out at sea.  Granted, the Great Flood of 1913 was really bad, see the pics here , but that was before the Army Corps of Engineers built the series of dams and reservoirs on the Scioto and Olentangy Rivers.  I have seen Infiniti Q45s towed in filled up to the belt moldings (where the window glass meets the door) with poo-filled sewer water, and a whole shipment of used Corollas acquired in a rather shady auction deal with bizarre electrical problems and shift consoles packed in flood mud, but that’s pretty piddly compared to what’s going on in Japan.

There can be earthquakes in the Midwest, but generally the Central Ohio area is a geologically stable zone.  We likely wouldn’t get severe damage if the New Madrid Fault were to generate earthquakes as it did in 1895.  It would, however, really suck anywhere along the Mississippi or Ohio Rivers.

At least I’ve not gotten motivated to get these memos (yet):

I haven’t descended into that dark a level of depravity.  It would be fun to see the expressions on certain people’s faces should they receive such a memo though.

I am thankful for flush toilets and for not having to use them outside.  The thought of having to use an old time latrine or outhouse like we had to do at the Girl Scout camp is downright frightening.  There’s something most off-putting about having to a.) use a flashlight to get to the latrine, then once you find the latrine you have to b.) shine the flashlight in and around the hole to check for unauthorized insect, arachnid and reptile life, and c.) smell the acrid stench of hundreds of other people’s decomposing urine and feces.   To add fuel to that fire, I’ve not entirely overcome my fear of flying and crawling insects or wayward arachnids.  Reptiles never really bothered me, probably because there aren’t very many venomous species in Central Ohio.  Usually on the rare occasion anyone happened upon a snake, it was a small, harmless garter snake.  There are copperheads and rattlesnakes, but both copperheads and rattlesnakes are fairly rare and are found mostly down south.  Nothing terrified me more as a child (and everything terrified me) than flying, stinging insects.  I hated them- bees, wasps, hornets, anything with wings and a stinger- and there is no shortage of any winged stinging insect around here in summer, especially mosquitoes- believe that.  I can thank my sisters for that hyped-up terror, as they found it most amusing to throw flying, stinging insects in my hair.  

I’m thankful that not too many people would find it amusing to throw live wasps in my hair today.  Cougardom has its advantages.  So does short hair.

I’m thankful I don’t drink anymore, therefore I am not subject to hangovers.   I am still subject to Jerry’s “drunk and stupids” followed by the sappy, lingering,  pathos of his hangovers, but there is humor to be found in that, so it’s a wash.

I am also thankful that there will soon be a day when we no longer have to hear about Obama.

I am thankful that there will be a day when Steve-o is out of school, gainfully employed and fully financially independent of the parental units.  The sad part about that is he will probably move down South and then I’ll only see him on holidays.  But that will give me an excuse for a road trip and somewhere to go on vacation, so that has its advantages as well.   I might not be terribly averse to retirement in the South, as long as he doesn’t move into some backwater holler straight out of Deliverance.   I like living in the city despite the crowds and traffic.  You can find things like food and medical care and employment a whole hell of a lot easier in the city.

I don’t get to travel and stay in hotels, therefore I don’t have bedbugs.

I have three nice warm dogs who love me even when everyone else on the planet is screwing me over.  I think I saved the best for last.

elysianhunter’s Wide World of Sports, cont., Limited Time Offers, and Political Commentary (a Bit to the Right of Reagan)

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I don’t mean the above as an insult to Special Olympics.  I’m glad that there is a venue for those with physical and/or mental challenges to participate in sports activities if they so choose. It’s great to encourage people to overcome obstacles and work hard to get healthy, have fun and achieve a higher goal.  However, the idea of the mentally challenged engaging in a motorsport seems a bit counter intuitive.  I’ve yet to see a chainsaw sculpture competition for people with tremor disorder. I hope nobody ever thinks of that one, because Jerry with a chainsaw could be a very dangerous thing. I don’t know of chess tournaments for those in a vegetative state, or beauty awards for old cougars with bodies that look like roadmaps of Atlanta either. 

Ohio State actually won the Sugar Bowl last night.  I dozed off around 9:30 or so.  I read it in the news this morning.  So now everyone can shut up about Terrelle Pryor and company getting caught hawking memorabilia and getting free tattoos- at least until next football season.

The more I think about it, I don’t think either chess or beauty pageants are technically considered sports.  I could possibly gain an interest in chess, if I had the time, motivation and a worthy opponent.  Chess requires a strategic mind. The closest I get to honing my strategic abilities is in playing freecell and other variants of solitare.  My oldest sister did the beauty pageant thing only to discover two important truths: 1.) There actually are people more vapid and self-absorbed than she was in high school, and 2.) Beauty is generally not compatible with brains.  The beauty pageant crud is also incredibly expensive.  By the time you buy the dresses and the makeup and hairdos you’ve spent a small fortune, but that’s just the beginning of the indignities. To me, the exquisite torture of being confined for inordinate lengths of time with a bevy of dingy bimbos who would like nothing better than to rip out your throat and crap down your neck is even worse than parting with boatloads of cash.  I would pay boatloads of cash to avoid confinement with dingy bimbos if I had to do so to preserve my sanity. 

Thinking about the beauty pageant tomfoolery almost makes me glad I never had a daughter, and that my son is the Straightest Man in the World.  Just ask him.

Apparently chess and beauty pageants aren’t sports, but bowling, billiards and poker are considered sports, at least on ESPN.  Poker I would have to put in the NASCAR category of “non-athletic” sport.  If it were possible to get ripped by sitting on my ass and playing cards, believe me, I’d be learning poker with the quickness.  The same goes for driving around in a continuous left turn with the pedal to the floor for 500 miles.  If I could drive my way to a buff bod, believe me I’d be on it.   I wouldn’t mind continuous driving except for one thing.  If a race is four hours long, do they wear a Depend under their racing outfit?  I don’t know of very many people who can drive for 500 miles without having to take a whiz.   Maybe they have empty Mountain Dew bottles to whiz in, like truckers do.  

Billiards (or pool) might have a bit of athleticness to it, as you do occasionally have to stretch across the table to make those awkward shots.  I thoroughly suck at shooting pool.  Bowling also requires some physical coordination, which is why I completely suck at bowling.  Even though I suck, I do like to go bowling occasionally.  I’m doing really good if I can score 100 or more.  My bowling scores are usually more like 48, 71, or 82.

I have to love the “limited time offers” I see on infomercial TV.  Probably the most hokey one I’ve seen (other than the foot washer and the pecker pump) is for colorized two dollar bills.  Basically someone thinks I am going to pay $10 plus freight for $4.  Not in this lifetime.

I try not to follow the doings of British royals too closely.  Americans don’t have royalty, but we have Hollywood, and that’s far worse.  I try not to follow Hollywood either.  Even though I am not enamored of inbred Europeans, and I generally don’t follow their escapades,  I think  the “limited time,”  “As Seen on TV” horrible knockoff of Princess Diana’s engagement ring is beyond tacky.  I can only hope that Prince William takes after his mother and not his creepy dad. It would be sad if he treats Kate as bad as old creepy Charlie treated Diana.   Ultimately Charlie got even creepier Camilla.  Charlie and Camilla are a far more appropriate match.  Eww.

On one hand, it seems to be a lovely gesture for William to give his fiancee his mother’s engagement ring.  It’s worth a huge amount of money (unlike the cheap gumball machine knockoff advertised in the commercial) but to me, considering the trainwreck Diana’s marriage was, I would consider that ring accursed.  I don’t even want a cheap gumball machine copy that will turn my finger green and has a slide adjust so it “fits any size.”  Anyone who pays $20 plus freight for this is a.) asking to share in someone else’s 30 year old curse, and b.) is stuck with yet another worthless piece of poorly made costume jewelry.

I might like it better if it were amethyst instead of sapphire, but that’s just me.  I’m not a big believer in costume jewelry with the exception of funky earrings.  If I’m going to bother to wear rings, bracelets, necklaces or watches, I want decent stuff that won’t turn me green or fall apart.  Otherwise, I just don’t need it.

The “limited time” offers seem to drag on forever and ever.  I mean, how long is Billy Mays going to be selling stuff from beyond the grave? I can imagine his Oxy Clean and Awesome Auger commercials are still going to be aired twenty years from now, and there will still be warehouses full of that crap for the hawking.  When you think they’re gone, they magically reappear, announcing for the fourth or fifth year in a row, that it’s imperative to call in the next ten minutes- to buy crap that has been sitting in some warehouse gathering dust since the Clinton administration.  I hadn’t seen the Lipozene commercial for some time, until last weekend, when it reappeared in its original form, where you pay $30 for a 60 day supply.  I tried it a few years ago, when I was just a little less cynical and had a little more money than I do now.  It doesn’t work.  Anything that sounds too good to be true generally is. 

I’ve said it many times that I am politically slightly to the right of Reagan.  I am deeply concerned that the political correctness BS has gone amok yet again.  For those who don’t know what political correctness is, I do have a summary.  If I knew who originally wrote it, I would give due credit, but I don’t. Rumor holds that the following definition was written by the winner of a Texas A&M contest in 1997, but I can neither prove nor disprove it.  I do, however, agree with it:

“Political Correctness is a doctrine, fostered by a delusional, illogical minority, and rabidly promoted by an unscrupulous mainstream media, which holds forth the proposition that it is entirely possible to pick up a turd by the clean end.”

This being said, it is downright offensive to me (but who cares when a Christian or a conservative is offended, eh?) that a distinguished Navy captain can be dismissed for some off-color videos recorded several years ago for the entertainment of his troops.  The videos may have been in poor taste, but shouldn’t the punishment fit the “crime?” It seems a bit ironic that DADT was repealed, and then *all the sudden* no one in the military can make any kind of remark (in jest or otherwise) regarding homosexuals.  I find it offensive that certain special protected groups have more right to be offended than the majority.  Nobody cares about offending a law abiding, native-born, conservative WASP, but just stand back and watch the fireworks when someone says something derogatory about Obama’s pet groups- such as gays, minorities, illegal immigrants, or convicted felons!

The Navy captain incident was bad enough (but again, nobody cares because he appears to be a native born conservative WASP type) but now a jail employee (presumably also a native born conservative WASP who nobody cares about) has been suspended for saying the “Obama Prayer.”  I need this T-shirt. 

The shirt says:

Pray for Obama

Psalm 108:9

Psalm 108:9, in the King James Version, reads:

“Let his days be few; and let another take his office.”

AMEN!

What native born, conservative WASP isn’t praying this prayer or something very similar?

Expiration Dates, Fascination With the Macabre, and Sheena of the Jungle

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I hesitated to say anything about Sheena for a number of reasons, one, that Jerry insisted that we were only taking Sheena home to *find a new home for her.*  Famous last words.  He said that about Isabel (our very tiny but domineering black cat) 12 1/2 years ago too, but once I had her spayed and declawed and all that, suddenly “three cats aren’t that many.”  At certain times we have had four cats at one time. Now we are at three cats and I’m cool with that.   For most of the past 5 years we have also had three dogs.  We have three dogs again now.

Sheena, like every other dog that has crossed our threshold, is a basket case.  She is a very lovely GSD/Husky mix, about 70# of unsocialized, attention-starved dog. 

Her story is yet another that inspires the misanthropist in me though.  She came from near the campground, from a nasty little trash pile that I shudder to think was a habitation for scavengers, let alone humans, but there were people living there in a derelict house trailer with various car parts, disassembled appliances, a PortoJohn, and piles of filth and trash.  This poor dog was a refugee from this disaster hole when the human denizens disappeared a few weeks ago.  She had been scavenging around the campground and accepting food from anyone who would give it to her.   Sheena was more fortunate than the min-pins they had locked in cages behind this cesspool- they were still alive but half starved. We left them food and called the Humane Society.  The Humane Society picked the min-pins up.

The main thing that breaks my heart about Sheena is that she lived most of her live in a small pen.  Because of this she became a cage biter- gnawing on the metal bars of the pen until she wore her incisors down to the gums and her canine teeth are little stubs.  She also appears to have had multiple litters of pups from the look of her belly.  I just hope she’s not preggers now, and that she doesn’t come into heat before we can get her spayed. 

Some people just plain suck.  Sheena is adapting well to life with the crazy dogs (Clara and Lilo) but nothing can fix her dental issues.  For the rest of her life she will have to either eat wet food or dry food stuck together with wet food or gravy, because the only teeth she has that are intact and functional are the molars in the back.  I have heard of military and police dogs getting dental implants and/or protective crowns, but short of us coming into some sort of fantastic and overwhelming financial windfall, I can’t see us being able to come up with thousands of dollars for poor Sheena to be fitted with crowns – an expensive endeavor which is only nominally successful in dogs anyway.  Since her gums don’t appear to be inflamed or infected I really don’t think her existing tooth roots/stubbies need to be removed or that her dental issues are going to impact her health or quality of life too adversely.  That will be another question for the Vet.

I find it amazing that everything from car wax to Cheetos has an expiration date stamped on it.  If modern packaging is supposed to halt the inevitability of decay for an inordinate amount of time, who sets the arbitrary limits?  Who is to say that an unopened bag of Cheetos is good until December 15?  Does this mean you can’t eat them on December 16 or even February 4 for that matter?  Is there research behind this and if so, why was I not stamped with an expiration date?  That would be an interesting tattoo- not that I am into tats nor do I ever anticipate getting one- but for the sake of the argument, let’s say the tat could say, “Fresh until July 14, 2041” or something like that.  It would be a conversation starter if nothing else.  Obama could get an expiration date tat too: “Discard Immediately: 1-20-13.”

Humor Is Where You Find It, Somewhere in the Generational Disconnect, and I Hope the Stupid People Stay Home Today

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I can imagine Steve-o’s embarrassed indignation yet again at Mom as she is trying to pry into his sex life.  Steve-o is not Catholic and wasn’t raised Catholic so he really doesn’t understand that Mom learned sex-ed- from nuns.  I tried to impart to him at least a nominal Christian education in the Lutheran tradition.  Therefore the oddly Catholic concept of “sex-is-sin-except-if-you-are-married-and-actively-procreating-and-even-then-you-better-not-enjoy-it”  is not a concept that is dear to his heart.  I will add, that as in line with is correct Protestant theology, he has been taught that abstinence is the correct course of (in) action before one is married, but after marriage sex is perfectly hunky dory, and you can enjoy it without procreating, as long as it is consensual and with one’s spouse.  Of course for me, this concept of  “sex after marriage for recreational purposes” is merely a theory and not something I’ve experienced any time recently.  But I am an old cougar whose carnal drives went away pretty much completely after the hysterectomy anyway.  In contrast, Steve-o’s a 19 year old male for heaven’s sake, and there would be something wrong with him if he didn’t have a healthy case of cat scratch fever (as Ted Nugent called it.)  I was going to say “perpetual boner,” but I don’t want to imagine that.  Ever. Eww.

I would rather have Steve-o be honest with me.  I know he has been doing the dirty deed ever since Jerry caught Jezebel riding him like a pony when he was 14.  I am glad to have been spared the visual, and no I don’t approve of it.  However I am a realist, and I know that I didn’t practice abstinence until I was married.   If  lust is a difficult thing for women to resist, (and I struggled with it for many years, and still do in some ways) I know men in their impulsiveness have it a lot worse.  It’s a high standard, and even if I expect him to uphold the abstinence standard, I would rather he trust me enough to be honest with me if he doesn’t.  I understand.  Really.

Mom on the other hand does a very good impression of the Spanish Inquisition, which is what she did to him the other night of her own admission.  I know she means well because she fears for the state of Steve-o’s soul, (and I think Catholics still regard fornication as a mortal sin) but the Inquisitional method isn’t going to work with him.  The old-school Catholic guilt complex doesn’t register with him.  He was never taught to be terrified of dying with unconfessed sins, and I don’t think he’s even heard of the concept of mortal sin.  I wasn’t about to tell her what I know about Steve-o’s amours and break Steve-o’s confidence. I know that she more or less browbeat and cornered him into a sheepish denial, a denial arrived at specifically to appease her and to avoid her wrath.  I don’t think she really wanted the truth anyway.  Sometimes the truth is exactly what you don’t want to hear.  He told her what she wants to hear to avoid her inevitable diatribe about fornication and mortal sin and how the “pecker leads the way down the path to perdition.”  I think she learned that speech from the nuns way back in 1960 and can still quote it verbatim. While as I said earlier, I don’t approve of what is technically fornication, and in my own life transgressions of that nature have caused me a great deal of regret and heartache.  God put the boundaries around our behavior for a reason, and when we cross those boundaries there are consequences.  Even so, I can think of much more harmful offenses.  In spite of my Catholic upbringing, I find it hard to believe that sex is the unforgivable sin.  I know that sin doesn’t have categories and one is as bad as another and we are all guilty.  I am not the one Steve-o or anyone else will have to answer to.  We can sound the warnings but ultimately each one of us is going to make mistakes and each one has to live with the consequences of those mistakes. 

I have to find some humor in the fact that I got the same Inquisition from Mom, years ago, and I pretty much reacted the same way.  I was the Queen of Denial (he-he.)  My sister was nominally less fortunate, as she got the Inquisition after Mom found her birth control pills.  That was not a pretty scene. 

I think my generation views things carnal in a different light than Mom’s generation.  While technically she and Dad are “boomers” (came of age in the 1960’s) one has to remember they grew up in a town that is chronically 20 years behind the rest of the world.  The 1960’s for them meant 1940’s social mores, not hippies or Woodstock or free love.  My generation was into the whole “love the one you’re with” thing- at least until the advent of AIDS.  Then we started getting picky.  When I was in high school it was not uncommon for girls to get pregnant and not even know who fathered the child.  When Mom and Dad were in high school if a girl got pregnant either she was Sent Away to have the baby and then give it up for adoption, or forced into a shotgun wedding at age 16.  Neither of these scenarios are good, and both of them underscore the fact that behavior has consequences.  Waiting is better but waiting isn’t easy- especially when you’re 18 or 19 and a month seems like an eternity.  All I can say is time moves faster the older you get.

Today is election day and it is long awaited for those of us who abhor Obama and his dreadful administration.  I hope for a few things.  One, that the stupid people stay home.  Two, that we here in Ohio get a new Governor, and three, that enough Republicans make it into Congress to stop the Obamanation in his tracks.  I have never loathed an American President this much.  Carter was terrible- I remember writing him letters as a nine year old kid pleading with him to do something about the coal strikes and the hostage situation in Iran- but Carter at least had some humility if not sensible ideology.  Obama has abhorrent ideology as well as he is an arrogant fool.  May he please be a one term president!!!