Will Washington and Mr. Obama's Failures Lead to Another American Revolution?

IT'S A RHETORICAL QUESTION AS STORM CLOUDS GATHER AND SWIRL OVER OUR COUNTRY

By ERNEST S. CHRISTIAN AND GARY A ROBBINS IBD

The Internet is a large-scale version of the "Committees of Correspondence" that led to the first American Revolution — and with Washington's failings now so obvious and awful, it may lead to another.

People are asking, "Is the government doing us more harm than good? Should we change what it does and the way it does it?"

Pruning the power of government begins with the imperial presidency.

Too many overreaching laws give the president too much discretion to make too many open-ended rules controlling too many aspects of our lives. There's no end to the harm an out-of-control president can do.

Bill Clinton lowered the culture, moral tone and strength of the nation — and left America vulnerable to attack. When it came, George W. Bush stood up for America, albeit sometimes clumsily.

Barack Obama, however, has pulled off the ultimate switcheroo: He's diminishing America from within — so far, successfully.

He may soon bankrupt us and replace our big merit-based capitalist economy with a small government-directed one of his own design.

He is undermining our constitutional traditions: The rule of law and our Anglo-Saxon concepts of private property hang in the balance. Obama may be the most "consequential" president ever.

The Wall Street Journal's steadfast Dorothy Rabinowitz wrote that Barack Obama is "an alien in the White House."

His bullying and offenses against the economy and job creation are so outrageous that CEOs in the Business Roundtable finally mustered the courage to call him "anti-business." Veteran Democrat Sen. Max Baucus blurted out that Obama is engineering the biggest government-forced "redistribution of income" in history.

Fear and uncertainty stalk the land. Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke says America's financial future is "unusually uncertain."

A Wall Street "fear gauge" based on predicted market volatility is flashing long-term panic. New data on the federal budget confirm that record-setting deficits in the $1.4 trillion range are now endemic.

Obama is building an imperium of public debt and crushing taxes, contrary to George Washington's wise farewell admonition: "cherish public credit ... use it as sparingly as possible ... avoiding likewise the accumulation of debt ... bear in mind, that towards the payment of debts there must be Revenue, that to have Revenue there must be taxes; that no taxes can be devised, which are not ... inconvenient and unpleasant ... ."

Opinion polls suggest that in the November mid-term elections, voters will replace the present Democratic majority in Congress with opposition Republicans — but that will not necessarily stop Obama.

*******

Let's just hope the next revolution is peaceful, say at the ballot box, with new candidates and a series of bills to defund and defrock the travesty that this present Congress and Mr. Obama has wrought. That would be ideal. However, if the ballot box doesn't work, then there's always the possibility that it won't be peaceful at all.

Rebalancing And Chillin'

DEAD DOG TIRED

HEAVEN KNOWS I'VE TRIED TO GET HERE FOR SEVERAL DAYS, to no avail. This is the best I can do, mRed! The short story is I came down with a sinus infection last weekend but kept going full steam ahead anyway. Finally late yesterday after finishing mediating in Teton County Court, I succumbed to complete exhaustion. Today, I've been unable to move, so I've made myself rest and really take it easy. It feels great to slow down, be quiet and let go. I actually have no other choice. Life here in summer can get very intense and I'm intensitied out!

For the next couple of days, I'll be in first gear recharging batteries. Hopefully I'll be back to write and resume a more balanced approach to life. I've made the commitment, now if I can make it happen. There's more, but it'll have to wait. I have no idea what the stock market did today, but I do know round two of Arizona's immigration law is only the beginning of a huge battle for state's rights verses federal meddling.

In Christ, There Is Neither Slave Nor Free Man

For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so that we can do the good things he planned for us long ago. ---Ephesians 2:10

IN 1812 A SLAVE BAPTIST PREACHER died on the Peachy plantation in Virginia, leaving a pregnant wife. The young widow dedicated her unborn child to the Lord. Her continual prayer was, Lord, if dis chile you's sendin' me is a boy, doan' let him do nuthin but sing de praises of Jesus. When the child was born she named him John after John the Baptist.

John Jasper grew up as a prodigal son, but his mother persevered in prayer for him. John was eventually purchased by Samuel Hargrove, a deacon at the First Baptist Church in Richmond.

Hargrove put John to work in his tobacco factory and on July 25, 1839, God answered his mother's prayers. John Jasper loved to tell the story of what happened that day:

One July morning somethin' happen'd....Fac' is bruthr'n, de darkness of death was in my soul dat mornin'. My sins was piled on me like mount'ans; my feet was sinkin down to de refuns of despar, an' I felt dat of all sinners I was de wust. I tho't dat I would die right den, an' wid what I supposed was my lars breath I flung up to heav'n a cry for mercy.. 'Fore I kn'd it, de light broke; I was light as a feather; my feet was on de mount'n; salvation rol'd like a flood thru my soul, an' I felt as if I could 'nock off de fact'ry roof wid my shouts!

Twan' long 'fore I looked up de line agin, an' dar was a good ol' woman dar dat know all my sorrers, an' had been prayin fur me all de time. I had to tell her, an' so I skip along up quiet as a breeze, an' start'd to whisper in her ear....but jus den de holin-back of Jasper's breachin' broke and what I thought would be a whisper was loud enuf to be a hearn clean 'cross Jeems River...All I know'd I had raise my fust shout to de glory of my Redeemer.

But for one thing thar would er been a jin'ral revival in de fact'ry dat morning'. Dat one thing was de overseer. He bulgg'd into de room, an' wid a voice dat sounded like he had his breakfus dat mornin' on rasps an' files, bellowed out: "What's all dis row 'bout?" Somebody shoulted out dat John Jasper dun got religun, but dat didn't work 'tall wid de boss. He tell me to git back to my table....so I sed, "Yes, sir, I will; I ain't meant no harm; de fus tast of salvation got de better un me, but I'll git back to my work." An' I hear de overseer tellin' him, "John Jasper kick up a fuss, an' say he dun got religun."

Little aft'r I hear Mars Sam tell de overseer he want to see Jasper....I sez to him, "....Jes now out dar at de table God tuk my sins away, an' set my feet on a rock. I didn't mean to make no noise, Mars Sam but 'fore I know'd it de fires broke out in my soul, an' I jes' let go one shout to de glory of my Saviour."

Mars Sam's face was rainin tears.

Hargrove gave John Jasper his freedom so that he could preach. And preach he did. He founded the Sixth Mount Zion Baptist Church in Richmond with nine members. At the time of his death in 1901, it had grown to over two thousand.

----The One Year Christian History, Michael and Sharon Rusten

Life In The Fast/Slow/Plodding Lane

AFTER LIGHTNING STRIKE, GRAND TETON CLIMBER'S BODY RECOVERED
I'M NOT SURE WHICH IT IS. All I know is I feel like I'm on a roller coaster of activity as far as the eye can see. I'm out in the world with people, people and activity, activity, as opposed to winter when I go more quietly inward. There's a reason the days are longer in summer, and shorter in winter with merciful loooong nights sleep for recharging inner batteries.

Getting in higher altitude shape has me going to bed by 8:30 and getting up at the crack of dawn. Less time to write, but hopefully I'll get more in soon,

I met a truly extraordinary man today. The world is filled with interesting, engaging and smart people. Still, interesting people are not always extraordinary.

Only very rarely do I meet a person I think is extraordinary, someone who has endured and overcome great hardships both personally, and also for our country.

Today, I chanced upon such a man. There are no accidents. I will never forget our hour-long conversation at a picnic table here in Wilson, WY. Perhaps after I wear myself out enough I'll get to the computer write about my encounter with this man and some of the things he said to me. He is a patriot and a conservative. He is a self-made man.

Till then, I'm hitting the sack early, then hiking with the heavy hitters in Idaho early in the morning. The weather and company will be wonderful. Have a nice weekend. God bless.

Sunday on Monday: Are There Any Mere Coincidences?

UPDATE: THIS SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE, INEXPLICABLE....YET THERE SIMPLY ARE NO ACCIDENTS, GREAT OR SMALL---EVER

ONE OF THE MOST INTERESTING stories ever published was a novella called The Wreck of the Titan, or Futility by Morgan Robertson. Robertson tells the story of the sinking of a large luxury liner named the Titan. The Titan in Robertson’s book was the largest ship in existence at the time: over eight hundred feet in length with a passenger and crew capacity of three thousand. It had numerous watertight bulkheads and was considered unsinkable. It carried the minimum number of lifeboats required by law, but far short of the number needed for three thousand people. While carrying many wealthy passengers across the North Atlantic on a cold April night, the Titan struck an iceberg at 24 knots just before midnight about ninety-five miles south of Greenland. The iceberg tore a gash in the ship’s starboard side, which flooded the watertight compartments. The unsinkable ship sank. Because the Titan did not have enough lifeboats, more than half of her passengers died in the icy waters.

We’ve all read books or watched films that claim to be “based on actual events.” Those who are familiar with the sinking of the Titanic on April 15, 1912, would naturally assume that Robertson’s book was a fictional account based on these actual events. The numerous similarities are just too striking. The problem is that Robertson’s book was published in 1898, fourteen years before the “unsinkable” Titanic sank in the icy waters of the North Atlantic with too few lifeboats.

I’ve been interested in so-called coincidences since I was a child. In fact, my first research paper of any substance during high school was on the subject of coincidences. I recently ran across this old paper, which I wrote before I was a Christian. After giving examples of some of the more remarkable coincidences to be found in the annals of history and looking at some of the different theories that have been suggested as explanations for these phenomena, I concluded that perhaps coincidences were somebody’s way of trying to tell us something. I also added at the time that if this someone or something were trying to tell us something, there were probably better ways to do so. It wasn’t too long after writing those words that I read the Bible for the first time.

Some of the events that skeptics would attribute to chance or coincidence are examples of God answering our prayers. I have experienced these in my own life. As an example, the week I began seminary studies, I did not have enough money to take a full course load, which meant that my new wife and I could not stay in the seminary housing. The only person I had talked to about this was the housing director. I stayed up all night praying. The following day I went to buy a loaf of bread (I didn’t know what else to do, but I knew we had to eat). When I returned, the phone rang the very moment I opened the door. I picked it up and discovered that a fellow first-year seminary student was on the line, a student I did not even know. He had heard of my situation and had paid the remainder of my tuition, enabling my wife and me to stay in the student housing and begin seminary studies. A skeptic would say the timing of the phone call was a mere coincidence, pure chance, nothing more, nothing less. No, in reality, it was God’s dramatic answer to my prayer.

Even Tabletalk has been involved in “coincidences.” Our daily Bible study for September 11, 2001, covered the text of Judges 9:42–49. This text tells the story of the deaths of a thousand people who perished in the tower of Shechem when it was burned by Abimelech. The study was written months before the events of September 11, 2001, but it had particular resonance to those who read it on that tragic day. Such stories could be multiplied hundreds of times over. Most people can share similar stories of coincidence. Atheists and other skeptics relegate these kinds of events to pure chance, but Christians do not believe in chance. We believe in a sovereign God who providentially controls all things. So what’s going on?

Scripture explicitly teaches us that things we might attribute to mere chance are actually controlled by our sovereign God. The entire book of Esther is an example of God’s providence working through seeming coincidences. Proverbs informs us that “the lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord” (16:33). God, then, is in control even of things as simple as the “roll of the dice.” As the Westminster Confession explains: “God, the great Creator of all things, doth uphold, direct, dispose, and govern all creatures, actions, and things, from the greatest even to the least” (5.1).

So-called coincidences appear to be striking glimpses of God’s providence in our day-to-day world. We know and confess that all of life is under God’s providential control, but we tend to forget this in the humdrum regularity of our lives. So-called coincidences are a splash of water in the face, as it were, to us and to others who can tend to forget that our world is not simply matter in motion. God is always trying to tell us something. We just don’t listen very well.

---Keith Mathison, Ligonier Ministries

Evening

9:38 PM, WYOMING TIME.

Another Wyoming Reality Check: WIND

THE GUYS AT ZERO HEDGE TAKE THE WIND OUTTA DAVID BROOK'S MISINFORMED SAILS
WIND, WIND AND MORE WIND IN THE WILLOWS

LET'S SEE, AFTER MOSQUITOES, GRIZZLY BEARS, AND INCESSANT ROAD CONSTRUCTION, there's something else those of us who love Wyoming must all-too-often contend with: WIND. I put it in caps because we don't have wimpy wind here. No, it's world class wind, fierce wind, often gale force with gusts up to 30-55 mph. Like today and yesterday.

Perhaps it's the air currents coming off the desert floors of Nevada then through the jagged terrain of the Rockies---here in Jackson Hole it's the Tetons on the western side of the valley) that somehow ratchets up the velocity, then chinooks it till it almost consumes everything we do.

Summer days often start off sunny, cool and calm. You wake up and get your hopes up that it'll stay that way. Then about noon when air close to the ground warms and rises, it begins to churn as it pushes high, cool air downward. The air rodeo has begun. It can last until the sun goes down, if we're lucky. If we're not, like last night, it can go on till midnight. But whatever we're doing---work or play---it gets our attention. And keeps it.

Needless to say strong winds are an anathema to anyone who's fly fishing. It's especially hard for novices-----just off the calm Orvis casting ponds in the East---who've flown in for a week to get some hands-on practice. Lord, it can be frustrating to come out here with shiny new equipment and have to cast all day in this kind of mayhem.

Yesterday and today have been about as windy as it gets. I sure wouldn't want to have paid $500 for a guided float trip in this. But fly fishing is the least of my wind worries today. I fret endlessly about planes landing and taking off in this kind of wind.

Later today I have company arriving on a flight from Dallas. One of my next door neighbors who flew in from LA yesterday told me the wind was so bad as they approached the airport that the pilot had to circle and circle until he could finally bring the plane in for a safe landing.

I shudder to think what such an approach will be late this afternoon. I always pray family and friends get here, then home, safely. After that I pray they're not ashen when they walk through the terminal door. After that, I take them to the bar at Dornans to have something to calm their nerves. And then we wait for the wind to c-a-l-m- d-o-w-n. Way, way down.

So remember, if you don't like world-class winds, then you might not like summers in Wyoming. For me, though, it hasn't deterred me in over two decades. I haven't yet been blown away.

**********

Today when I walked over to catch a pic of Fish Creek above, I crawled under the fence and into the pasture of the big cattle ranch. They still raise the finest grass-fed beef cattle anywhere. Anyway, it amuses me what happens when these cows suddenly see someone like me standing there with my camera. Endlessly curious and friendly, they watch for a moment, then begin to herd themselves into a massive group all of them staring in unison at me, an impostor. Then they begin their slow march closer and closer for a better look.

They move in even closer, crowding each other to see who gets to me first. Actually they are rather adorable gals. I wouldn't have been able to stand there and stay put if I'd seen a big bull. I talk to them and say I have no sugar, no salt....it's only a camera. Nothing deters their curiousity..... Until I finally turn and walk away towards the stream. Then they begin to disperse and go back to grazing. Life is good for a beef cow here in the Valley, especially at this ranch.

At ease, ladies, at ease.

John Tamny on Economic Lessons From D.C.'s Social Safeway Re-Opening

NEW STATE-OF-THE-ART LIFESTYLE STORE HAS ARRIVED

DURING ITS yearlong reconstruction, the trade deficits that Washington, D.C. residents held with the "Social" Safeway plummeted. To conventional economists this would be a good thing, but the Safeway example reminds us once again how alleged trade "deficits" are our reward for being productive, not to mention how deprived and impoverished our existence would be absent the ability to trade freely. The redone Safeway also clarifies why modern definitions of inflation and deflation are a perversion of the true meaning of both.

What D.C.'s Social Safeway Tells Us About Economics

There's absolutely nothing that could get me back to shopping at the Social Safeway on Wisconsin when I'm in D.C. even in its newly minted form.Not produce, not sushi, not wine. That's because I loath the traffic, now much preferring the wide open spaces (a joke) of the older, unglamorous Safeway on MacArthur Blvd, west of Georgetown. Anyway my favorite Social Safeway checker has moved to MacArthur so we get to visit and gab like we always did. I also frequent Whole Foods on River Road. Still, Tamny's points are well taken and I do hear the new SS is stunning and the photos collaborate that.

Going To The Top Of the World With the Heavy Hitters

ON MY WAY TO CHURCH, but will be back to write a little more about the grueling hike yesterday with some of Jackson Hole's biggest hikers. I fell a little short of the top due to extreme altitude adjustment and very thin air (need a few more weeks to make more red blood cells to carry the sparser oxygen.). It was a sensational day of pushing ourselves to new heights and the best of camaraderie. The hike was to Jackson Peak (10,715' at summit), 10.4 miles distance, 2,723 ft elevation gain, 7 hours, 52 minutes. I made it to just about 10,500' before my body screamed Stop! and I reluctantly obeyed.

Photo credits: EW, leader of the pack.

Mistrust of Government Is A Healthy, Beautiful Idea

INTERESTING. Don't agree with everything Penn Gillette says here, but I do like some of it.

The Un-Glamorous Side of Wyoming

FRIDAY UPDATE: INTERNET CONNECTION VERY SPORADIC....WORKING ON GETTING IT FIXED SOON
IN AN EFFORT TO KEEP THINGS HONEST AND UNPRETENTIOUS, want to share some of the less savory aspects of summers in the hinterlands of Wyoming. People sometimes think I live some sort of glamorous life when I'm here, but the truth is, while it's beautiful, wild and certainly my cup of tea for part of the year, it also has its miserable downsides. Life here can be arduous if you live, work or play in this great outdoors. Take for instance the photo above of the fabulous Green River I snapped above Fontenelle yesterday. Looking out over the riparian willows is bucolic and beautiful, but I swear there are at least a billion, maybe trillions of mosquitoes in the confines of that one little picture. Wearing long sleeve shirts and insect repellent is mandatory. Even then, you're a walking, breathing piece of red meat to all gazillion of those little blood suckers---and they're hungry 24/7 in the short summer season. If that's not enough, walking through the willows when the cottonwoods are blooming, blowing everywhere is almost worse than getting bug bit. Benadryl is a girl's best friend when her eyes rebel from what's flying through the air.

I've learned two things over the years:

1) Mosquitoes (and tics) much prefer to swarm and feast on people in darker clothing, so wear light khakis, pastels and best of all whites to keep their blood-sucking, love-interest to a minimum. Today lots of quick-dry shirts and pants come with insect repellent woven into them---good through dozens of washing. Still there's lots of other places bugs can attach.

2)Rinse, rinse, rinse! As to allergies to things flying through the air getting in your nose and eyes, causing major misery, I've learned hats and sunglasses help keep pollen out of your hair and eyes. Still taking a shower when you get home and getting every last speck of pollen off your face, hair and hands is of paramount importance. Never go to bed with a hint of pollen on you if possible. It really helps keep allergic reactions at night to a minimum. Cottonwood and pine pollens are two of the truly great miseries of my life here and can incapacitate and lay me lower than low every now and then.
Need I say more about road construction? It's a short season and every possible project is thrown into overdrive to get finished before the snowy season sets back in. There are often long waits in these zones, like yesterday. And rocks that fly through the air and ding and crack your nice windshield before you've even gotten to town happen routinely.

That's enough dust, mosquitoes and pollen for one post...and I haven't even gotten to grizzlies in the willows. But that's another downside and minor inconvenience for another day...

Sunset Over Fontenelle Reservoir

9:15 PM, WYOMING TIME.

America From Main Street, Grand Junction Has Its Fourth Parade

FROM DAUGHTERS OF REVOLUTION, SONS OF SUBMARINES, TYKES ON TRICS, to friends of Second Amen rights, The Grand Junction 4th of July Parade had everything that mattered to its mostly conservative spectators yesterday. There were even politicians... and more politicians....imagine that! A highlight was a surprise appearance by Sarah Palin waving her new book. Anyway, a good time was had by all. It was cool and cloudy making it even more pleasant. And did I say, guns, God and butter were more than welcome!

Happy Declaration of Defiance Day America

THE BEST THING I'VE READ TODAY THAT FITS MY OWN THINKING. We're 234 and there's never been a time more critical to our country's continued freedom than the next six months. Ted Nugent writes we must take our country back from the Fedzillacrats at Human Events:

Defy the sheeplike epidemic of apathy that has willingly opened the door to the Mao Tse Tung fanclub in the White House.

Let your uniquely American defiant DNA rise to the surface. Join organizations and support individuals who most closely align their beliefs and ideologies with the dreams and aspirations of our forefathers. Raise your healthy voice in defiance. Join the NRA.

Get angry. Get passionate. Get cracking. Take back America from the Fedzillacrats who, if they get their way will ultimately destroy the dreams of our forefathers. Slay Fedzilla at the ballot box. Do it for your grandchildren.

Live free or die. Throw some tea in the harbor. Remember the Alamo. Tell em "Nuts!" Say it loud and proud. Happy Defiance Day America!

America From Fruita, Colorado

PLEASE DON'T MISS MCNAUGHTON'S INTERACTIVE PAINTING "ONE NATION UNDER GOD"

WE'VE COME TO FRUITA TO A COFFEE SHOP THIS MORNING....and so far, no vampires spotted, Treg. No one seems to have heard, if one were loose in the area. Needless to say the Chamber of Commerce wouldn't be too pleased if the rumor got out. Meanwhile, a beautiful day in a darling little town just down the road from Grand Junction and only a stone's throw from Utah where I'll be going Monday morning.....Wyoming bound. But make no mistake, I love it here and could spend much, much more time in these parts. To make matters even better, Mesa County is about as conservative as it gets, and My Bad Influence is very involved in conservative politics here, much to his credit. I would say Republican, but the Tea Party movement here is very strong because most voters are very fiscally prudent.

Freshly sheared baby alpacas at the Saturday Farmer's Market. A crowd pleaser for all ages.

Did you know if you smell a series of different scents, even good scents like soap your sense of smell goes numb after ten or more? The remedy? Take a big whiff of coffee beans to clear your nasal palette.

A Fable: The Coyote and the Governor Or Why California's Broke and Arizona Ain't

ONCE UPON A TIME, the Governor of California is jogging with his dog along a nature trail. A coyote jumps out, bites the Governor and attacks his dog. He starts to intervene, but reflects upon the movie "Bambi" and then realizes he should stop; the coyote is only doing what is natural, so he calls animal control. Animal Control captures coyote and bills the State $200 testing it for diseases and $500 for relocating it. Hethen calls a veterinarian who collects the dead dog and bills the State $200 testing it for diseases. The Governor goes to hospital and spends $3,500 getting checked for diseases from the coyote and on getting his bite wound bandaged. The running trail gets shut down for 6 months while Fish & Game conducts a $100,000 survey to make sure the area is free of dangerous animals. The Governor spends $50,000 in state funds implementing a "coyote awareness" program for residents of the area. Then the State Legislature spends $2 million to study how to better treat rabies and how to permanently eradicate the disease throughout the world. The Governor's security agent is fired for not stopping the attack somehow and for letting the Governor attempt to intervene. Additional cost to State of California: $75,000 to hire and train a new security agent with additional special training re: the nature of coyotes. PETA protests the coyote's relocation and files suit against the State.

*****
The Governor of Arizona is jogging with her dog along a nature trail. A Coyote jumps out and attacks her dog. The Governor shoots the coyote with her State-issued pistol and keeps jogging with her dog. She's spent $0.50 on a .45 ACP hollow point cartridge. The Buzzards eat the dead coyote. She goes back to her office to sign the state's new immigration bill.

The cost to California :Tens of thousands. Price of keeping government out of every aspect of our lives: PRICELESS.

Thanks to Libby P in Nashville for sending this!

In The Garden With Peggy

LINK ON HURRICANE HAZEL FROM MY BAD INFLUENCE

FOR A GARDENER, GRAND JUNCTION IS CLOSE TO PERFECTION. So when my dear friend, Peggy, and her supportive better-half, aka---My Bad Influence, moved from a higher elevation far above Denver to this fertile river valley almost ten years ago, it was like coming home to gardening nirvana. Every morning she arises with the earliest rays of dawn, before the dry, oven temperatures heat up, to water and irrigate, mulch, weed, debug, harvest, plant and transplant--- overseeing her most splendid garden adventure. From her garden above, you can see Colorado's famed National Monument.

Who can ever understand how friendships begin or what sustains them? We met unexpectedly almost 16 years ago in the winter of 1994 in Everglades National Park at a little B and B where they and I with some other friends were staying. P and S were leaving that morning and My Bad Influence was actually packing their car to leave. As fate would have it, P and I began to chat over the community breakfast table. Afterward she asked me if I had time to sit out on the patio to continue our gabfest a bit longer. My Bad Influence was gruffly pacing the driveway, ready to leave; however, Peggy in her typical calm fashion told him to pip down for a little while....so he did. Like any good husband, he's learned when to take instruction and supervision....though he is anything but henpecked. Theirs is a marriage---a first marriage---that has survived against all odds made it and made it swimmingly. It hasn't always been easy for either one of them----both strong personalities, but to see a good pairing that only gets better is truly a wonder to behold! Both conservatives, they give each other plenty of space and also don't hesitate to reiterate their non-negotiable bottom lines when necessary.

As Peggy and I talked that morning in Florida, she discovered I lived part-time in Wyoming and issued a warm invitation for me to stop in Colorado to see them going or coming. I accepted. Then reciprocated. They began many visits to see me in Wyoming. Our friendship blossomed organically over the years and still flourishes. We did have a falling out in the early years of this decade over the silliest thing, a cultural difference. We all dug our heels in like a bunch of mules---and I can be the biggest mule in the corral---and had to take a break for several years. To this day, I think it was meant to be and once resolved and forgiven has only served to further enhanced our our long-term, enduring friendship.

Think friendships can only be solidified over time by seeing not just the best sides but also the less best of the other---when the rose colored glasses come off. We've certainly seen all sides of each other and still love our friendships. Of course, sometimes falling outs are for good, usually, I've found, when the gaps between values, morals and sensibilities are just too great. That is often as it should be.

There are no two people I care about more anywhere than these two. I am most blessed to have them in my life!

When I'm here, we come and go and give each other lots of space. There's also lots of togetherness. I often take over the cooking for Peggy when I'm here so she can do other things. We hike together and after dinner we all play games until we're too sleepy to go on. They introduced me to UPWORDS, all our favorite word game which I've taken to Wyoming and back to Tennessee to play year-round. But make no mistake: when I arrive in Grand Junction I'm red meat for these two experts. Last night, I led the game only to be taken down by My Bad Influence in the last two minutes when I made a strategic mistake. He had no mercy. Not even when I whined that he and they should be much kinder to houseguests who were acclimitizing to the altitude....

But nevermind. Soon, very soon there'll be a rematch.....and win, lose or draw I plan to give 'em a run for their money.

My Pic: The Hardest Stretch of Interstate To Drive Award

LOOKING BACK AT I-70 AND THE COLORADO RIVER FROM NO NAME REST STOP IN GLENWOOD CANYON

IF YOU ENJOY INTENSE, DIFFICULT DRIVING THROUGH THE AMERICAN COUNTRYSIDE, then I have a great recommendation for you: try driving I-70 from Evergreen, Colorado west of Denver to Grand Junction, 20 miles from the Utah border. If you want to hone your driving skills---perhaps you're thinking of entering a NASCAR competition somewhere---then this stretch is a perfect training run for you. Especially if you don't mind mind-blowing concentration with both eyes glued to the road with no time to blink, and both hands gripping the steering wheel for almost 250 miles. Be my guest. Each time I drive this stretch, I seem to have forgotten how much it takes out of me when I do it.

Here are some of the things you'll encounter: High 10,000' mountain passes, steep downhill grades, breath-taking uphill climbs, big tunnels through mountains, falling rocks, wildlife on the road warning signs, curvy canyons, cantilevered split lanes, runaway truck ramps, mighty rivers rushing below, beside and in front of you and lots of traffic going in both directions. Occasionally there's a big tractor trailer rig hauling what appears to be a massive part of the Space Station. For much of the trip the posted speed limit is less than 50 mph. Yesterday there was a hail and wind storm for 20 miles.

Sure, between Glenwood and DeBeque canyons----the road tames down and you can open up the throttle full-steam. It's like a reprieve. But most of this trip is with sweaty palms, a wing and a prayer.

I cannot imagine what this---the last stretch of I-70 to open in the early 90s---cost to construct. It is an engineering feat of the major proportions!

It's beautiful countryside, but who's looking? I only took the time to relax for a minute of two when I was able to find a rest stop and get out to walk and breath deeply. This drive is not for anyone who needs to check their Blackberry every few minutes, or take their hands off the wheel. Take it from me, this is a tough drive and to do it safely requires mandatory concentration and patience. An amazing stretch of American road. But I wouldn't want to do it often. If I were a trucker, I'd avoid it like the plague and find a way to go cross-country on the tamer I-40 or I-80 by-ways. When you're done, you know you've been on a real drive.

Shock Meeting On Top Of Sanitas

AFTER A DIFFICULT CLIMB APPROACHING THE SUMMIT, euphoria often sets in for a hiker. It was certainly the case for me earlier this week, as I bagged the top of Sanitas. When people let go and start to enjoy their mountain-top experience, most become more convivial.

Indeed after such a climb I am deeply grateful to God and happy to be alive and in one piece. Since I can now breathe, I'm open to human conversation, especially willing for others to talk while I listen.

So as I took those last steps to the top, a woman close to my age---39, next question----was bounding down as if she'd been up nothing more than a low flight of steps. We glanced at each other and she spoke first....You made it and you look so fresh, she said.

Surely you're not talking to me---I'm definitely feeling the altitude, I responded. I was thinking the same thing about you.

Thus began an amazing conversation which went from the where-are-you-froms to much deeper subjects which I'll get to later. First a little background:

I've been coming through super-liberal Boulder for decades, mainly going back and forth to stodgy Wyoming. Frequently I stay with or certainly see my good friends---M & D a couple I've known and loved from our early days in Washington D.C. attending meetings of the national board of The Nature Conservancy (D and I were the youngest national board members they'd ever elected). In the beginning we were all somewhat liberal, but as time grinded on, M&D became more liberal and I grew way more conservative. For the most part our friendship wasn't affected and this change often added to more lively dinner conversations on a wide range of subjects when we all got together. But as time went on I became disillusioned with TNC's politically correct stand on man-made global warming, as M &D became more entrenched in its efficacy.

Last summer while I was in Boulder, I gave D a copy of the Rolling Stone article by Matt Taibbi on all things Goldman Sachs and the historic bubbles it had helped engineer. I have been critical of TNC to D for TNC's entrenching both Hank Paulson as the now erstwhile chairman of TNC's board, and later enthroning Paulson's protege from Goldman---Mark Terck--as president of TNC, even as Paulson rotated to become Secretary of Treasury under Bush2 and author those famous first bailouts of the banks, his old investment firm and AIG.... that our grandchildren will be paying for forever.

I often argued to D, and still do, that Goldman/Paulson/ are so interested in TNC (and the Democratic platform) not because it wanted to save disappearing ecosystems, but rather because it/they sniffed global carbon trading that would make GS and its principles wealthy beyond all human imaginings if Cap and Trade were passed. Taibbi's article shook D to the core. He told me it kept him up all night....He's a water lawyer and told me he was currently working on a hydro project with Goldman and TNC in China.

Both M&D were and are sold on Al Gore and the foregone conclusion of man-made global warming (AGW). We would talk for hours on the pros and cons.

*********

Anyway, back to the top of Sanitas in Boulder this week. My conversation with this woman hiker unfolded further. (As fate would have it, M&D are both out of town this time---M in Truckee babysitting their new grandson. D is in China working on his hydro project with GS and TNC.)

We had an immediate connection about exercise, a healthy lifestyle, food, family and professions. Politics was not mentioned as we gabbed.

I already surmised without doubt I was talking with a super-liberal, health-conscious Boulderite like I'd met dozens of times before......I figured there was no need to go near politics.

Then she told me was a 'climate scientist'....

I bit my tongue....A climate scientist? I said. How very interesting.

Every aching, tired muscle, sinew and nerve in my body screamed Don't go there!! You already know what she's going to say.... Don't open that can of worms.....She's from Boulder for heavens sake!

And then....then..... I took a deep breath of that super-thin Rocky Mountain air and tip-toed towards that pregnant QUESTION about man-made global warming.....

Was she a believer in AGW, I wondered.

Actually no, I'm not, she responded adding, The science has been terribly contaminated by the politics of it. Then she went to say she regularly gives lectures in the area on the myths associated with climate change.

Surely I was hallucinating from altitude and heat. Would she say that again, please? I couldn't be hearing that in Boulder.

We ended up standing there, then sitting down on rocks for thirty to forty minutes about the racket of AGW. Then we talked about the economy, debt, the printing of money, the bailouts.

I had clearly met one of the few true conservatives in Boulder. We were clearly birds of a feather. I couldn't believe my good fortune. That evening, she and her husband---a contractor and avid fly fisherman----met me for dinner at all our favorite downtown restaurent, The Med. And we talked more!

Then we decided to stay in touch.

And guess what? While my older dear, liberal friends, M & D were out-of-town, I met some new conservative ones with exactly the same first initials---M & D from the right side of town!

And now I've told the rest of the story....

Climbing Boulder's Mt. Sanitas

ABOVE , TRAILHEAD TO LOWEST ROCKS OF CLIMB

I FLUNG MYSELF INTO THE DEEP END OF THE HIKING POOL TODAY climbing Sanitas. By any standard it's a tough, steep hike with an elevation gain of close to 2,000'. I'm in decent shape in the lowlands of Middle Tennessee. But being in good shape there and here from a mile-high base are two very different things. Two years ago I climbed Sanitas with a good friend who lives here in Boulder and turned my ankle so severely that I had surgery two months later to correct that three-decades old injury. Now I'm back doing it for the second time since that surgery. It went well today, but starting in the cool air of early morning is a must. Also hiking on an empty stomach with only a couple cups of black coffee and lots of water in my system helps. Other than that, it was a terrific climb with an amazing surprise at the top. But I'm too tired to write more until morning. Definitely feel a great night's sleep on the way! This is one of the finest training hikes of all time and I'd do it several times a week if I lived here.

The Way It Outta Be More Than It Is

"HILLSDALE COLLEGE is one of the last true meritocracies. There's no place on its application for racial identity, and it doesn't know the racial make-up of its student body until it shows up on campus in the fall.

'The purpose of education is not diversity,' Hillsdale President Larry Arnn says. 'It's truth.'"

Detroit News, Hillsdale College Continues to Just Say No (To Taxpayer Money)

H/T

Sunday Reflections

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

MAN MUST HAVE AN IDOL—The amassing of wealth is one of the worst species of idolatry. No idol more debasing than the worship of money. Whatever I engage in I must push inordinately therefore should I be careful to choose a life which will be the most elevating in character. To continue much longer overwhelmed by business cares and with most of thoughts wholly upon the way to make more money in the shortest time, must degrade me beyond hope of permanent recovery. I will resign business at thirty-five...

— Andrew Carnegie, Personal Memorandum, December 1868

Pastor Rice Broocks talks at Bethel World Outreach in Nashville: Men Continue to Show Up and God Will Show Up Too.

Putting the Size of the Oil Spill in Perspective

NOT TO DIMINISH THE DISASTROUS QUALITY OF THE OIL SPILL to the ecosystems and lives of people in the Gulf states, or diminish the urgency of fixing it as soon as possible. Nonetheless, this is a must-read article which I first saw at RedState on the relative size of the spill: It wouldn't begin to fill the Superdome.

Putting things in perspective at least helps with patience which seems to be in short supply these hot summer days. We do need to continue working night and day to get this dreadful stream of gushing oil into the Gulf stopped for good. It probably won't be until the fall, from all reasonable accounts I read.

Sunrise on the Colorado/Kansas Line

DROVE INTO COLORADO FROM KANSAS very early this morning with a grateful, happy heart. I was listening to Brazilian Cafe and drinking a cup of coffee I'd made in the microwave of a cheap motel this morning---the last motel room available in Goodland, Kansas when I rolled in late last night, so sleepy, I could have slept in my car or on the floor for lack of a bed.

Tonight, I'm truly exhausted on the beautiful Eastern slope of the Rockies. It's windy, cool and a good night for catching up on much needed sleep before going on to visit friends in Grand Junction Tuesday.

Driving across the country in uber-heat with the afternoon sun blaring in your eyes---and staying alert---is a real challenge at this time of year. Add to that a substantial elevation gain and it's even harder. No better time to fast and drink lots of water and sips of coffee. Leave the carbs, starches and sugars alone on drives like this.

On The Road Again

GETTING AWAY FOR SEVERAL MONTHS is always hard work, but I can't remember a time I've been busier before migrating. After hitting a big deer on I-81 in SW Virginia over Memorial Day weekend (want to write about it later when I can) and subsequently being delayed in the east 10 days longer than scheduled for repairs, I returned to Nashville to catch up and make up for lost time.

This afternoon I said my last goodbyes to family and friends in 95+ degree heat and headed up I-24, I-57 and I-64 for Kentucky, Illinois then Missouri. Friday it's more Missouri and a whole lot of Kansas. Colorado comes onto the horizon Saturday morning. It's a slow, imperceptible elevation gain from 500' in the Nashville basin to 5,280' rolling into Denver. Most of the trip now will be on I-70.

Meanwhile, I'm almost too tired to care whether Al Gore has been described as a wild sex poodle---how strange---or just the world's dullest noodle. Make no mistake, whatever the answer, he's never been one of my favorite people. But I've got to say in his defense that any woman who goes to a man's hotel room anytime of the day or night, under whatever pretense, especially to give a full-body massage to a man who's been drinking, is asking for, well---how to say it?--asking for a major life lesson in men and opportunistic sex.

None of it surprises me, though it is indeed bizarre. Also terribly uninteresting for more than five minutes, at most.

Mr. Obama's Deepwell OK

IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T HEARD, it seems President Obama and various cabinet members were aware of and green-lighted the risky Deepwell Horizon drilling project to depths of 35,000' from the get-go, the front end, the beginning. All very, very interesting. Read on at Zero Hedge as to why the administration wanted this fast-tracked and was willing to waive many important safety precautions:

PRESIDENT OBAMA, Secretary of Interior Ken Salazar, Secretary of Energy Steven Chu, and Defense Secretary Robert Gates were informed that BP would drill an unprecedented 35,000 feet well bore at the Macondo site off the coast of Louisiana.

In September 2009, the Deepwater Horizon successfully sunk a well bore at a depth of 35,055 below sea level at the Tiber Prospect in the Keathley Canyon block 102 in the Gulf of Mexico, southeast of Houston.

During the September drilling operations, the Deepwater Horizon drill penetrated a massive undersea oil deposit but BP's priorities changed when the Macondo site in the Mississippi Canyon off the coast of Louisiana was found to contain some 3-4 billion barrels of oil in an underground cavern estimated to be about the size of Mount Everest. It was as a result of another 35,000 feet well bore sank by the Deepwater Horizon at the Macondo site that the catastrophic explosion occurred on April 20.

According to the Wayne Madsen Report (WMR) sources within the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers and the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA), the Pentagon and Interior and Energy Departments told the Obama Administration that the newly-discovered estimated 3-4 billion barrels of oil in the Gulf of Mexico would cover America's oil needs for up to eight months if there was a military attack on Iran that resulted in the bottling up of the Strait of Hormuz to oil tanker traffic, resulting in a cut-off of oil to the United States from the Persian Gulf.

Obama, Salazar, Chu, and Gates green-lighted the risky Macondo drilling operation from the outset, according to WMR's government sources. WMR learned that BP was able to have several safety checks waived because of the high-level interest by the White House and Pentagon in tapping the Gulf of Mexico bonanza find in order to plan a military attack on Iran without having to be concerned about an oil and natural gas shortage from the Persian Gulf after an outbreak of hostilities with Iran.

Memories of My Father

HE WAS A MAN'S MAN, YET I NEVER HEARD A SINGLE curse word or profanity come out of his mouth. Never saw a Playboy in our home or any sign that he cared for any woman, other than my mother whom he singly adored. I do know in the early years of his marriage, about the time I was born, he would get into occasional fist fights, back when he still would have a drink or two at a social event. There was rumor of a big fight at the country club when a man tried to make a pass at my mother. I think they may have wrestled each other to the floor and several by-standers had to pull them apart. My father and his 'opponent' were chilly acquaintances from then on, for the rest of their lives. But I never heard of another fight after that.

Growing up, I almost never saw him take a drink other than a rare glass of wine. But he made up for it with a sweet tooth. He loved chocolate and would often pour chocolate sauce on top of chocolate ice cream. I was never a sugar fan, so I would often be silently appalled at what I considered his sugar addiction.

My father loved the outdoors as much as any man I ever knew and passed that passion on to me. Not only did he work part of each day outside in the lumber yard, he loved to walk, play golf and hunt. When he couldn't get outside enough, he'd go down in the basement and pound his punching bag with his boxing gloves on.

In the fall, he quail hunted in the wild country of hills and fields outside of town. As a little girl, I would beg him to take me with him. When he said Yes!, I was beside myself with excitement. We would walk for miles and miles all afternoon through brambles and briars with his shot gun and bird dogs in the late fall air. He taught me to shoot. When we'd get our limit of birds, we'd take them home to clean. He showed me how to pull off their heads---but I was too squeamish so he'd end up having to do it himself. I was brave enough to help pull off the quail feathers though. Then he'd take out his pocket knife and cut the guts out and more or less fillet them. I'd wash the newly cleaned birds in a pan before we put them in milk cartons, covering them in water, and freezing them until a special occasion. On Thanksgiving my mother would always cook dozens of quail in butter and sherry, served with wild rice , along with the turkey. I can still smell the sweet aromas of the birds and gravy coming to the table and was so proud I'd helped to bring them there with Daddy.

I have several strong images of my father that will live with me forever. He was a devout Christian and would get down on his knees to pray every night.Sometimes I would barge into the room when he was there. I'm sure he prayed for me and my sister every day of his life. After he finished his prayer, he would get up into bed with my mother---later with my step-mother---and read a page of two from the Bible either out loud or to himself. He never missed a night. This ritual, like his morning coffee, or blessings before meals was so entrenched for decades of his adult life that only his impending death weeks before he died would end it.

I remember the thrill of going down to visit him at his office at the lumber mill down in Depot Bottom. It smelled of oak paneling and tobacco, though he was never a smoker. In the early days there were brass spittoons in the waiting area for the men to use. Seeing that both terrified and fascinated me. It was as if I'd gone into a scary world of rough and tumble men. My father always admonished me to wear a skirt below my knees and conduct myself like a lady when I came into his man world. I was never allowed to wear shorts or skimpy tops down to the mill and never allowed to speak unless spoken to until I was older.

He was a political conservative who believed strongly in less government and lower taxes. He loathed labor unions like the plague. After that, he loathed debt. Although he made plenty of money, he never cared much for living high-on-the-hog. It was one of the things I most admired about him. Stuff simply didn't matter, especially as he got older. Much of what he had and did, he did it for mother and us-- and later for my step-mother who relished the good life a bit more than he did.

He was far from perfect and could be inflexible and stubborn. But both of his wives loved and respected him. He was happily married to my mother over thirty years before she died. It broke his heart. When he remarried, he was happily married another thirty years. I believe it's hard for any woman not to respect a Godly man like him. Love without respect is very hard to sustain between men and women I think.

I had many differences with my father over the years which are other posts for other times. When I went away to college in the 60s, I became a knee-jerk liberal with no idea what I stood for. Only that I stood for what sounded much more liberated, exciting and cool at the time. It took me decades to come back to my ideological roots, much to his chagrin. Yet when I did come back, I had made many of them my own and had experienced enough liberal elitism and experienced their effects never to want to go back there again.

There's so much more I want to write about my father and our relationship. But it's getting late and a strong West Wind is blowing in my life this week. Perhaps I'll come back and write a little more from the Western Slope of the Rockies soon. He would like that, I'm sure.

One thing's for sure, I learned to pray for my family, children and grandchildren by watching and following his example. Knowing he submitted to a Higher Authority and feared the Lord was one of the greatest things he passed on to me and our family. He lived a godly life, though not without many heartaches and challenges. I miss him and give thanks one da I'll surely see him again.

He was truly a small town Southern gentleman. I've been blessed by that in ways I'm only now coming to fully appreciate.

Trace Atkins---Former Oil Rig Worker---Tells It Like It Is

TRACE ATKINS NAILS THE ATTITUDE OF THE WORKING MAN in the Gulf in this must-see interview. He calls President Obama's moratorium on deep well drilling idiotic.

Watch the whole thing, and remember while Mr. Obama ties the hands of American oil companies, foreign companies/countries will go right on drilling deep wells right off our shores. That includes countries like Cuba and China. Again, he makes the point that the moratorium on shallow water drilling which eco-extremists pushed to outlaw is much safer and should be re-instituted. I can't disagree with anything he says. After working in the oil drilling business for 10 years, including six on Gulf oil rigs, he should know what he's talking about.

If You're a Politician and Want A Friend In Washington.....Then......You Know What You Have To Do....

YEP. That's it! Bill Clinton found out. So did George W. Bush. And now, Mr. Obama is learning too. Of course, Harry Truman said it. Here are a couple of other of his notable down-to-earthisms:

"I never give them hell. I just tell the truth and they think it's hell.”

"If you can't convince them, confuse 'em."

Thanks so much, Greg, for this fab vid!

Now, This Is.....Interesting.....To Say the Least

ALABAMA CONGRESSIONAL CANDIDATE RICK BARBER has something to say about the unchecked growth of the federal government, government healthcare and increasing taxation without representation in our country. In this ad he sits around a round-table with with George Washington, Ben Franklin and Sam Adams. It's a powerful message to deliver. A powerful message to receive.

After being delayed/stranded in SW Virginia and NE Tennessee the past few days, I can tell you many of my Scotch-Irish brethren feel exactly the same way as Barber. We you don't want to get the NASCAR guys at the Bristol Speedway mad for long. We really don't.

******

ON THE ETHERIDGE CAPER

I realize I'm treading on sacred ground for some here, but after being away from the computer most of the weekend, I've come back this evening to see a major brouhaha about N.C. Congressman Bob Etheridge who was accosted by two 'students' who were unwilling to identify themselves (Who were they anyway?) while asking him a monumentally silly question: did he agree with President Obama's agenda? First saw it on Drudge, then followed some links and watched the video. For the life of me I can't get wigged out about this. Even a little.

For one thing, the video accosting of Etheridge by the 'students' looks like a set-up to me, as a former newspaper reporter. Was it another staged sting operation orchestrated by Andrew Breitbart on a slow news day, after an even slower news weekend? Etheridge didn't exactly handle himself in the most graceful manner at the end of a long, hot day, we can all agree; however, he was walking down the street minding his own business when the brouhaha/brow-beating began. And what possible difference does it make that he was on his way to a fundraiser for Nancy Pelosi? Anyway, Etheridge has apologized. Needless to say, to the conservative elite it didn't have enough of a ring of authenticity to it. Does any forced public apology ever seem completely sincere? Of course not.

I'm quite sure Democratic Rep. Etheridge is a man I would rarely agree with on most issues and never vote for, for myriad reasons. However, it seems like a straw mountain has been made out of a teeny molehill here. I can't get on this outrage train with the likes of Andrew Breitbart's Three Ring BIG Circus, HotAir, Michelle Malkin, and Pajamas Media, just to name a few. It's not worth my energy or effort and none of them can or will make me care.

I prefer to save my emotions for things that might not have been conjured up during a hot, slow summer weekend by people who don't have better things to do and can never rest for even a minute. If some conservative-leaning organization staged this ambush of Etheridge, then I hope it's discovered and branded reprehensible.

This kind of political-baiting and cheap shot taking will never help conservatives or Republicans get elected or win back Congress. In fact it will only serve to slow things down. Haven't we got better things to do?

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