2016

I have elsewhere warned about the next presidential election providing the country with a continuation of the Chicago-bred line of candidates.  In case anyone's missed it, rumors abound that the Democratic dream ticket in 2016 will be Cankles for president, Rahm Emanuel for vice president.  This would, from a sociological perspective, prove to be formidable:  The first ever female president and the first ever Jewish vice president.  Combine that with their know-how and political savvy and it may well prove indomitable.

At least that't the thinking.

Meanwhile, Cankles is doing everything she can, unwittingly, to sink her as yet unborn campaign on her book release tour.  So far, she's made stupid comments, argued with Diane Sawyer and NPR and written a book that many are calling boring.  What she may provide in terms of novelty she's undercutting with a surprisingly inept lack of preparation and self-control.  Her husband is a far better politician than she is, but one would have thought that some of that would have rubbed off on her by now.

Her popularity is being eroded, although with more than two years to go before the Democratic National Convention, that could change.  The problem is that, with enough baggage already packed, she's adding more baggage with each press conference, each appearance at a book signing, each revelation of what is in her book.  She's not doing herself any favors.

In an eerie presage of things to come, Cankles visited her hometown -- the one she had before she became a New Yorker -- of Chicago to appear with none other than Rahm Emanuel.  Mr. Emanuel is already supporting Cankle's presidential bid, raising money for something called Ready for Hillary which, to my mind, is nothing but a transparent attempt to lobby for the running mate nod.

Give Mr. Emanuel this:  He knows politics.  Just days after Cankle's horrible attempt at portraying her and Slick Willy as Everyman by claiming they left the White House dead broke, Mr. Emanuel's first question to her was, Hillary dead broke.  Really?  That gave Cankles the opportunity to walk her comment back and admit she's perhaps made a poor choice of words.  Slick, Rahm, slick.

Those that will vote for Cankles and Mr. Emanuel come hell or high water will do so regardless of this self-immolation tour.  Women may vote for Cankles just as blacks voted for Mr. Obama out of a sense of pride, irrespective of party, competence and other factors.  Jews may vote for the ticket to see Mr. Emanuel in Blair House.  Of course, loyal Democrats will vote the straight party ticket as well.

But the independents who might otherwise be swayed have to be a little disappointed by the showing Cankles is making.  Her blunders are both worrisome and troubling.  Given that judgment has sorely been lacking during the Obama presidency, what is needed is someone who is going to work with members of both parties and make the right decisions.  Cankles, while secretary of state, made horribly wrong decisions and is now running from them.  She is a polarizing figure that many hate.  And worst of all is her surname.

It's high time that this country had a female president, but this woman isn't it.

And as for Mr. Emanuel, it's not wise to make the transition from being a despised mayor of the third largest city in the country to a position that is largely ceremonial but which is seen as a launch pad for the presidency, especially since the vice presidency doesn't do anything to clean up a woeful record as mayor.

The problem with both of these people is that for neither of them is it love of country but pure ambition that is driving both of them.  The country needs better than them.

(c) 2014 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles

Random Observations

So many thoughts, so little time:

--  Eric Cantor was defeated because he took his constituency for granted, not because he's Jewish.  The funny thing is it's liberals who are raising the anti-Semitism charge.

-- I wonder if Chuck Hagel saw that his real title wasn't Secretary of Defense but Sacrificial Lamb.

--  Road work is a necessary evil, but it sure is a pain.

--  Cats are interesting creatures.

--  I'm currently reading four books at once.  I've already finished one this month.  Is there a Twelve Step program for bibliophiles?

--  We can't wait to move.  Only eight more days until the closing.

--  Facebook is the ultimate social petri dish.

--  Reading comprehension in this country is at an all-time low.  And I'm not referring to young people but those of my own generation.

--  Karen and I are going to try to attend a couple of minor league games this summer.  Big league games are too expensive.

--  I'm only 168 points away from five more free books.  Woot.

--  I've said it once and I'll say it again:  I love inclement weather.

--  I see a game of HORSE in my immediate future.

--  Has any other president sidestepped responsibility or knowledge of so many issues that took place in his administration?

--  I think I need to have a beer this weekend.

--  Hollywood has been awfully quiet politically of late.  I wonder why?

-- No, I won't be buying or reading Cankle's book.  How can anyone seriously consider her for president?

--  Illegal immigration has to be stopped -- now.  It's beyond ridiculous.

--  Treatment of veterans is better than it was during and after Vietnam, but it still needs improved.

--  Online commentary to letters to the editor is very instructive.  There are thoughtful people around, but they wisely steer clear of such fora.

--  Cleaning is in my immediate future, but I'm not nearly as excited about that as I am the game of HORSE.

--  Although I'm not a fan of late nights, I love the painting Nighthawks by Edward Hopper.

-- Considering how they share a talent for saying stupid things and resemble each other not just a little, I wonder if E. Gordon Gee, the former president of Ohio State University, and Senator Harry Reid were separated at birth.  You decide:

                                                                     E. Gordon Gee

                                                                       Harry Reid

--  This Independence Day holiday is going to be a working holiday.

--  I think tonight calls for some limeade.

--  I can't decide who the conservative candidate for president should be in 2016.

(c) 2014 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles

Impeachment

Over the last couple of days I've been engaged in a give-and-take with one of Karen's cousins about the possible impeachement of President Obama.  Mike makes a strong case that the grounds are there for a bill of impeachment, based mostly on how the President sidesteps laws with which he disagrees when it suits him.  I can't argue that it would be wrong, legally, to pursue impeachment.  Mike's technically correct.

I part company with him, however, when it comes to the advisability of pursuing impeachment.  There are myriad reasons for this, not the least of which is, to borrow a phrase, what difference would it make?  Here, then, are my reasons for my demurrer:

First of all, as I already alluded, there are only two and a half years left on the President's term.  By the time all the legal wrangling was over, there might only be a year left on his term.  Even assuming impeachment would be rendered, then what?  Uncle Joe Biden runs the country?  I remember when discussion about taking Hitler out were had.  Two nagging questions were always, who would replace him and would he be worse?  The same would happen here, although we already know that Uncle Joe Biden would step in to replace Mr. Obama.  As Osama Bin Laden even knew when he counseled his minions to take out President Obama, leaving Uncle Joe in the ultimate position of authority would be disastrous for the country.

Second, going after the first black president is only fraught with peril.  There is a substantial block within the black community, and an even larger one within the white liberal community, that view any criticism of the President as being motivated by racism.  That being said, no matter how that position contradicts Martin Luther King's dictum, these substantial voting blocks will automatically activate to defeat any Republican candidate after a bill for impeachment is begun, and they may even sway unaffiliated voters with their cries of racism, no matter how inapposite.

Third, keeping a focus on the mid-term elections to elect a veto-proof Congress is far more effective than removing the President.  With an immovable Congress hamstringing him and even repealing his signature piece of legislation, not to mention lanuching investigations into the plethora of scandals that have been brushed aside by the administration and a compliant MSM, the President would twist in the wind publicly and be called upon to answer why things went the way they did during his terms.

Fourth, find a solid candidate and unite around that candidate for the 2016 presidential elections.  A bill of impeachment would only serve as a distraction from this.  Getting rid of Mr. Obama only serves a purpose for two years; solidifying a strong candidate for 2016 means at least four years of governance, with a possible four year renewal after that.

Fifth, the GOP has greater need to make inroads into minority communities, and should put more effort into that rather than attacking this man.  Again, most within those communities will only see a largely white party attacking a successful black man and chalk it up to racism.

To summarize, impeaching the President may be legally actionable and even warranted.  I do not believe he's guilty of treason -- unless there are things of which I'm unaware -- that militate in favor of removal.  There are plenty of good reasons to work on weakening him and the Democratic Party's candidates to reassert control over the country's future instead of pursuing vengeance.

But if the conservatives are successful, they'd better be very, very careful to fulfill their campaign promises. Eric Cantor's loss in the Virginia primary is a loud and clear message that incumbents had better deliver or suffer the consequences.

(c) 2014 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles

Update on the Generals

It's been awhile since I updated the world on our two bulldogs, Sherman and Custer, and there have been some happenings with the two of them that should be noted.

First, after a long hard winter, Sherman especially was hit with allergies that were compromising his immune system.  He was having all sorts of skin issues, which in turn caused him to scratch himself endlessly, which in turn caused him to scratch himself raw in a few places.  Custer wasn't as affected, although he required some treatments himself.

We had to bathe them both in special shampoo and then give them medicines and steroids the vet prescribed.  In order to get them to eat them, we had to put them in coconut oil, because putting them in peanut butter would defeat the purpose.  Thankfully, their appetites never wavered, so we were able to get the pills down them regularly.

When the weather warmed up we began taking them for walks around the village millpond.  Needless to say, they were rock stars.  I told Karen we should make it easier on ourselves and just print up information sheets to hand out to people, because we ended up telling the same thing over and over to the point that I felt like an automated recording.

The biggest change, however, after the time we spent with Dee Dee, also known as Deedles, the rescue bulldog we fostered until her forever home was found, was the introduction of a cat.  Because we're about to move into a house in which we found a dead mouse in the basement, Karen decided we needed to have a mouser, or a cat that was a mouse killer, to keep the mice away.  Because I've never had a cat, I know next to nothing about them.  Add to that the fact that I've always been allergic to them, and one can guess just how enthusiastic I was to get one, no matter how sensible the decision was.

If I was unenthusiastic about it, one can only surmise how interested Sherman and Custer were about the introduction of yet another distraction in the house.  Sherman, for his part, had lived with cats before and took a decided disinterest in the cat.  Of course, Sherman exudes disdain for anything with four legs, unless it shows him disrespect, in which he has a feral interest in dismembering it, and really thinks of himself more as human than canine.  Custer, for his part, either sees a mobile snack or an enticing new toy with which he can play.  From the confused look on his face as he sniffs the cat, we can only guess at what he's thinking.

The cat -- who we've named Bupkes because that's how much he cost us -- was at first uncertain about his new home.  As Karen explained it, he'd basically been taken from his siblings, his mother and the only place he called home, which makes sense.  But because I had no reference points, this was all new to me.

Suffice it to say that the generals weren't the only ones whose heads were exploding from the introduction of Bukpes into the fold.  Because of our space limitations -- and because we didn't know if Custer was going to try and eat him for a snack -- we had to keep Bupkes in the master bathroom. That meant his little box, his water bowl and his food dish, not to mention his bed, had to be put in there, right in front of the shower. Well, Bupkes has decided that it's not so much a ltterbox as a sandbox, so there's grainy litter everywhere; it's like walking on the beach after he's gotten in there.

Custer snuck in last night while we weren't looking and ate Bupper's food.  He got scolded terribly for that. Bupkes, meanwhile, has ventured out of the bedroom and into the living room, where he has learned to stay on the couch and chairs.  Sometimes Custer pays close attention, most of the time he's non-committal.   We still have to separate them when we're not at home, just to be on the safe side.

One of the joys of the generals' weeks is to make a stop Dairy Queen on our walks around the millpond. We buy them a small cone each and ask for a bowl of water.  The sight of those two devouring their cones is a showstopper.  Needless to say, we get plenty of comments from other customers.

Sure, the walks are good for them.  The exercise helps keep the weight off and gives them a chance to stretch.  The best part about those walks, however, is that it knocks them out for the rest of the night.

We're not stupid.

(c) 2014 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles

People Lost

I'll never forget you.  People say this all the time, especially at graduations when people are moving in different directions to different locations far away.  Granted, it's something girls say more than guys, but it's said by both nonetheless.  At the time it's said, I have no doubt it's meant in earnest.  But then life gets in the way and more important priorities intrude.  Not until later in life is thought given, usually in passing, to people that have moved on and exited our lives, either permanently or just in terms of location.

I have a decent memory.  It's imperfect, to be sure; just ask Karen.  But every once in awhile, I think of people that I used to know, people with whom I went to school, people I knew at work or relatives who died and wonder about their lives, what they might have been and whether they are even remembered by anyone other than their families.  I don't know why I do this, I just do.

Without revealing any identities,  I thought I'd take the time to remember a few of these people, how I knew them and what I remember about them.

Chuck R.  Chuck was a year behind us in grade school.  He was best friends with the manager of our eighth grade basketball team and the younger brother of our May Queen.  In high school, he was riding in the back of a friend's pick-up truck when it hit a bump in the road.  Probably because he was seated on the edge of the bed, he was thrown from the vehicle into the other lane, where an oncoming car hit him after he hit the road.  I never heard what killed him, the fall or the impact with the car.  But every time I look at our team picture, I look at that bright-faced Irish kid whose life was cut short but a silly mistake.

Steve E.  A classmate in our grade school class and one of the team managers of that team, Steve later caught the flu while I was in college and died, probably of pneumonia, leaving a wife and a daughter behind. His daughter is probably a young woman now, never having had the chance to know her father.  Steve had some slight physical disability but was a joy to be around.  He never played him his challenge and was always pleasant and well-liked.

John R.  John was a classmate with Steve and me.  He was a bit of a wildhair, being neither athletic or very bright.  He wasn't a bad kid, but he was always on the fringe, being the most likely to engage in pranks or get someone else in trouble if he could.  During high school, he lost control of his motorcycle and slid under a parked car, killing himself in the process.

The K Brothers:  These guys moved into the district only a couple of years before they died.  They were hockey players when hockey wasn't yet as popular as it became after Lake Placid.  They were also hard partiers who had spent the day at a reservoir with Pat C., the driver who was either drunk or high or both. Pat C. drove the car they were in into a big oak tree at the second bend of a slight S curve, killing the K brothers and the other occupant in the car.  Because Pat C. wasn't wearing his seatbelt, he was ejected from the car, suffering only minor injuries.  To add insult to injury, Pat C. later married one of the prettiest cheerleaders and moved away, leaving the K brothers' family behind with their memories and sadness.

Mrs. C:  The mother of my best friend Greg in grade school and high school, she was killed when a brick truck took a turn too fast at an intersection and overturned on her car.  I can remember crying like a child in the locker room when we learned of her death.  I'd only met her a couple of times before her death, but that incident affected my friend tremendously.  It probably pushed us to be closer, because Greg's older brothers used to beat the hell out of him with tough love and his father was harder on him still.  I often wonder what Greg would have been like had this not happened.

Denise P:  I worked with Denise for only a short time. She seemed to have problems in her private life, although I never guessed what they were.  We shared a love of all things Irish, so when she visited Ireland, she thoughtfully and generously brought back a government-approved bottle of poitín, or Irish moonshine, which still sits, unopened, on my office bookshelf to this day.  Shortly after I left the firm I learned that Denise died of complications from alcoholism.

John G.  A fellow albeit senior attorney, we shared a love of books.  John was a smoker with the raspy, deep voice to prove it.  I leant him a copy of James Dickey's last novel, To The White Sea, which he read and actually returned.  He was a literate man with an understated, dry sense of humor.  Shortly after he died, almost poetically, James Dickey died.  I attended his wake with a fellow attorney just to pay our respects.

My grandfather and grandmother:  I loved my grandmother.  She was the sweetest, calmest person I ever knew.  I didn't know my grandfather as well because he died when I was eight.  I would have liked to have had the opportunity to talk more with grandpa and spend more time with grandma.  I miss grandma a lot.

Henry Lilienheim:  Violating my intention not to reveal identities, this is one person about whom everyone should know.  Mr. Lilienheim was a survivor of Dachau.  After the war ended, he turned down a request from David Ben Gurion to be in the first-ever Israeli cabinet to search postwar Europe for his wife instead. It proved to be a wise decision.  Mr. Lilienheim spoke about seven languages, was licensed as an attorney on two continents and practiced as a patent attorney.  Despite having been to hell, he was as jovial a person as I ever knew, having a deep love for flamenco dancing.  One day, however, when I visited him he asked me if I believed in God.  Not wanting to offend him but unwilling to disavow my faith, I trod cautiously through that minefield and we remained friends.  Mr. Lilienheim later wrote a book called The Aftermath, which should be required reading in our schools.  I can't do the man justice; here's his obituary:

http://articles.chicagotribune.com/2002-12-18/news/0212180333_1_camps-nazi-lithuania

I miss Henry.

Our Mother:  Of all the people who have passed on, the one person I think of every single day of my life is our Mother.  She taught me everything, made me who I am.  She gave me a love of language and literature, of movies and art. She taught me how to cook -- no matter how much Karen may question that -- and how to throw a baseball.  She was my confidante, my best friend, my best cheerleader.  We had our moments, but by and large, we always got along.  Yesterday was the eighteenth anniversary of her death, and I miss her just as much today as I did eighteen years ago.

(c) The Truxton Spangler Chronicles

Liberal Epiphanies

Every once in awhile, the planets align in such a fashion that weird, unexplainable things happen in our cosmos.  More often than not, they're unexpected, so much so that one has to listen twice to make sure that what was heard was actually what was said.

A couple of months ago, the arch-Leftist Bill Maher had Kamau Bell, a member of the Forever Selma sect, on his show and had an exchange wherein he quoted something Michelle Obama said but attributed it to conservative Paul Ryan.  Mr. Bell immediately jumped on it, labeling it to have racial content, until Mr. Maher told him he intentionally misattributed it to Mr. Ryan to prove that not only do blacks discuss race differently with white folks, they will cry Race! when the truth of the matter spoken is something that they themselves acknowledge.

Here's the link to that exchange:  http://newsbusters.org/blogs/jack-coleman/2014/03/30/bill-maher-quotes-infamous-racist-michelle-obama

I tried to find the Youtube video but it's been removed...suspiciously.

What prompted Mr. Maher to veer into a pseudo-defense of conservative principles?  Heaven only knows, but it's refreshing to see that not everything conservatives say is white noise to all liberals.  What's more, Mr. Maher deftly proved a point, that no matter how truthful a statement may be, if it comes from a conservative -- white or black, but white especially -- liberals and blacks will trample the statement as if it's heresy of the first order.

I doubt Mr. Maher is changing his colors, but that one detour into sanity was nice.

Meanwhile, the man out to sink the NRA, Michael Bloomberg, made a brave and very unexpected speech at Harvard's commencement.  To sum it up, Mr. Bloomberg basically called out colleges and universities for being bastions of intolerant liberalism equal to the worst scourges of McCarthyism.  Mr. Bloomberg can be viewed here:

That two otherwise liberal people can take these positions is as noteworthy as it is heartening.  Not every conservative, nor every conservative position, is so outlandish, racist, uncouth, misguided, sophistical, imaginative or unrealistic as liberals believe them to be.  As with fans of sports teams, every side has its knuckleheads, and conservatives aren't exempt.  But at the same time, much of what conservative thought espouses is not meant to subject people to another set of principles or goals.

At the same time, conservatives also need to recognize that there are elements with the liberal establishment who are able to discern truth from propaganda, good from evil, and honestly crave for many of the same things conservatives seek, with slightly different twists.  Not every liberal is the devil himself.

Sometimes, people just need to sit back and listen and stop yelling at each other long enough to hear what the other person is saying.

(c) 2014 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles

Humpty Dumpty Mouthpiece Resigns

Last Friday, Jay Carney, President Obama's second press secretary, resigned.  Mr. Carney's resignation came the same day that the Secretary of Veteran's Affairs, Eric Shinseki, resigned, which could be nothing more than a comic coincidence.  Still, it's a good thing that Mr. Carney resigned, both for himself and for the country.

Never having been to Washington, D.C., and never having been to the White House, much less having served in a president's administration, I have no idea what it takes to be a press secretary.  I can only go by what Mr. Carney's predecessors have said about the job.  It may have its rewards, but it appears to be thankless job that takes its toll on the person in ways the rest of us can only imagine.  The stress, the hours, the tasks he or she must perform must go beyond anything any of us can appreciate.  It's a job with great responsibility, immense pressure and long hours.

Even so, Mr. Carney's performance was the first time I'd ever really paid attention to a press secretary, and the reasons for that attention are not good.  First, Mr. Carney was nothing if not smug.  He was always the smartest person in the room.  The way he talked to correspondents, especially those with whom he disagreed, was downright rude.  He often groped for words that he knew conveyed a meaning that was opaque at best.  He parsed his own replies so carefully that he basically said nothing in response to the question.

And part of that is by design.  He was paid to represent and protect the President.  I get that.  But did he have to be so rude?

Mr. Carney also lied, or was complicit in lying.  The position the White House took on the Benghazi consulate attacks was for media consumption, and as the point person for the adminstration, Mr. Carney necessarily had to be involved in the formation and the delivery of the message.  To claim ignorance of the perversion of the talking points is an outright lie.

Even though he's leaving his position, Mr. Carney continues to twist words to fit an agenda.  With the controversial deal brokered by the administration with the Taliban to exchange five hardened terrorists for Bowe Bergdahl, Mr. Carney is attempting to rebut charges that the White House negotiated with terrorists by claiming that Mr. Bergdahl wasn't a hostage but a prisoner of war, captured by the enemy on the battlefield.  Reports are issuing that Mr. Bergdahl deserted and was taken by the Taliban, not captured in battle, putting a lie to the new spin being furthered by Susan Rice and Mr. Carney.  Apparently, even with one foot out the door, Mr. Carney is intent on salvaging Mr. Obama's reputation.

I'm curious to see whether Mr. Carney will write a memoir wherein he'll refute much of what he said and did or at least try to shift blame away from himself or try to justify it as being the truth. The problem is that Mr. Carney is engaged in cognitive dissonance of the first order, telling people one thing that is diametrically opposed to what reality exists.  Combined with his smug demeanor, his lack of hesitation to lie and his endless parsing of his own words, it makes Mr. Carney one of, if not the most, insufferably press secretaries to ever hold the position.

Americans deserve better.  We're entitled to the transparency promised us when Mr. Obama was first elected.  Mr. Carney has aided and abetted this administration to paint black the windows of his government so that no one can see inside and only what is allowed out through an open door is what we receive.  Mr. Carney may not have committed any crimes, but he is complicit in treating his fellow Americans like serfs.

It is my hope that historians will one day provide the transparent balance to what this administration labored so hard to conceal.  Mr. Carney may suffer very badly at their hands, but he is responsible for perpetrating the concealment.

(c) 2014 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles