The Grass is Greener

The Kids working on their castle.

We landed in Tampa on Wednesday, and just getting off the plane let us know it is a lot nicer here than in the PNW. After an hour drive we climbed over the Cortez Bridge to Longboat Key just as the sun set, sizzling into the Gulf of Mexico. Vacation, not only from work; from the droning on of the Seatle winter.
The sun rose in a cloudless sky for the last two days. Forecasters have it repeating this impossible feat again tomorrow - impossible for the PNW anyway! Temperatures have been peaking out at 80*F daily. The Gulf has provided gentle on-shore breezes to keep the bugs at bay while we sun and sand and swim when not at the pool.
Catonsville is bracing for winter conditions. Bloomsburgh, PA is in the grips of bone-chilling cold and winter still wraps her wet and blue fingers around Redmond. Yes, the grass is greener. Hope to bring the warmth with us on the rest of our journey.

Post Turtle

A Post Turtle.  Mean, but illustrates
the Point well.

A few new steps into the blogging world for me.
Step one: I have never really posted anything political (the environment is still not a political issue despite AlGore's valiant efforts - follow the money) in nature. Not 100% sure this even qualifies as political as it is metaphorical in nature.
Step two:  Is it necessary to site a comment made to a news story online? Well - I am sure no one will read this - but if they do and they feel a need to correct me - fire away.  I am NOT an editor.
So the link above is to a story on Real Clear Politics (www.realclearpolitics.com) about President Obama's farewell to Robert Gibbs.  Despite the fact that he gave Gibbs his tie back 4 years later with pictures of himself in it, I thought it was a pretty cool gesture.  But when he referenced himself as "The Gipper" (misquoting the actual line) I have to admit, I cringed a little.  It was just so out of place that it seemed as if it were planned.  Here's a guy who ran on the idea that Reagan and his ilk are the cause of all the world's problems - now he's trying to align himself with being Reagenesque? 
Anyway -
As I read the article - I really didn't learn anything new, but on reading the comments I did see one fantastic comparison.  Not just of this president, but of a lot of folks in power.  The comment sited a Texas Rancher who compared Mr. Obama to a "Post Turtle".  Whaaaaa?  Exactly!  Now I am sure this isn't an original idea, but it is fitting and the first reference I have seen to it.  But a little more research into it (two clicks to anywhere) I found about a thousand references to the same story.
The actual post reads:

While suturing a cut on the hand of a 75 year old Texas rancher, whose hand was caught in a gate while working cattle, the doctor struck up a conversation with the old man. Eventually the topic got around to Obama and his bid to be our President.
The old rancher said, 'Well, ya know, Obama is a 'post turtle'.'
Not being familiar with the term, the doctor asked him what a 'post turtle' was. The old rancher said, 'When you're driving down a country road and you come across a fence post with a turtle balanced on top, that's a 'post turtle'.'
The old rancher saw a puzzled look on the doctor's face, so he continued to explain.
'You know he didn't get up there by himself, he doesn't belong up there, he doesn't know what to do while he is up there, and you just wonder what kind of a dumbo put him up there to begin with.'

 Now if that doesn't describe about 50% of the people in public and private office, I don't know how better to do it!  The same 75 y/o Rancher has called President Bush, Bernie Madoff, etc. ect. all Post Turtles.
I will be reusing this one - whomever came up with it, brilliant.
Now take that poor little turtle off the post you cruel, cruel bastard! Just not funny!

My Kids Are Going to Arlinton This Summer - Take Yours.

So I am up pretty late. Here in bed wishing for sleep, listening to Dave Mathews Grave Digger and I couldn't keep my mind on the song. All I could think about was Arlington National Cemetery, moreover, a trip we, as children were forced to take there.
My Uncle and Father piled us into the car: Mom, Tante (Aunt Maureen), three sisters and 3 cousins. We were surely going to hate this trip. Why couldn't we stay home and ride bikes or play in the basement? Why do we have to go to D.C. and see museums and boring crap? Two clarifying statements from my Father ended the gripe session: "Shut up. Get in the car"
The trip down I-95 to the D.C. Beltway and into the Heart of D.C. lasted long enough for us to hear three complete names called out in threat, one bout of retching from car sickness and 15 bottles of beer taken down and passed around. It was cold out.
We spent most of the day walking around looking through the Smithsonian Museums. Remember being less impressed with the Hope Diamond as I was with my cousin Keith's plea upon gazing his eyes on it.
"'Hope' we get out of here before this old guy in line farts again!". Keith always had a knack for being near the passage of gas - at least I always thought he was extremely unlucky that way. Perseption could be skewed? Be that as it may, I broke up laughing.
As I remember it, going to Arlington was a last-minute idea.  One that was met with groans.  Groans were met with McDonalds, and we were off.
My memory of getting there and parking don't exist.  As we were leaving downtown D.C. the window in my Uncle's land-yacht of a station wagon broke - in the down position.  I sat with a night-watchmen cap and a blanket next to the window.  I froze.  It was cold.
Out of the wind of the moving car we made it to the Cemetery.  I remember moving past the statues and the visitor center where my Mother and Aunt pulled maps and information pamphlets.  I remember us, the kids, growing quiet as we looked out across the path to the endless rows of white tombstones.  Turning, more grave markers. Plain white marble with black writing.  Couldn't begin to read them.  Crosses, some Stars of David.  Carefully placed flowers.  A medal sitting on top of one marker - alone.
It was cold.  The Cemetery was cold.  It made a car full of loud, arguing kids come to the grips with what it takes to be free, even if we didn't know what it was doing.
This summer I am taking my kids to the Smithsonian and Arlington.  I want them to see.  I want them to know what it means to be free.  What it takes. The ultimate sacrifice.  I want them to know the costs of war.  Why it is important to help others be free, be in charge of their government. It is important for our kids to know that brave men and women gave up life for them. For me.  For us all.  Even if you don't like it.  You are allowed to not like it only because it exists.
Thank you to the U.S. Armed Forces.