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In my morning newspaper was an insert by a group that goes by the acronym, MERI, which stands for the Maine Economic Research Institute. This organization sends out their “Guide to Economic Performance,” which rates our state’s legislative body according MERI's own economic criteria.
For the unsuspecting, this supposed “benign” insert merely rates our representatives, so we can be better informed on how we should vote. With the average person utilizing their favorite excuse of being “too busy” to follow the issues, MERI would seem to be providing a helpful resource to the people of Maine.
In reality, MERI, like other similar partisan organizations, hides their agenda behind pseudo-science, in their case, economics. The bills that they use to assign ratings to the candidates are heavily weighted towards those deemed “business friendly," with 30 percent of the rankings coming directly from bills that have a business orientation. The next category is worker’s compensation/unemployment, which makes up 25 percent of their sample ranking. Taxation is next, at 11 percent.
Way down at the bottom are the environment, economic development and education (at a miniscule 1 percent). Apparently, the only things that matter to MERI, when it comes to governing our state, are making sure business has things their way. While there are certainly Maine businesses that care about their employees, education and the environment, unfortunately, many others are governed merely by self-interest and their own bottom lines. By weighting their rankings merely on what’s best for business, their report doesn’t accurately capture who are the best candidates for leading our state, only those who take positions that benefit the businesses of Maine, which usually are larger entitities, by the way, not the local small businesses that drive our economy.
Rather than relying on Augusta (or the crooks in Washington, for that matter), voters need to give more time to understanding the issues,than they do to their favorite reality TV program, or fantasy football league. Since our current form of government still allows citizen input, being informed and communicating our desires and wishes to our local elected officials is how our process should work, at least at the local and state level. If we cede our rights to others, we allow disingenuous groups like MERI and other partisan hacks more power than they deserve, allowing them to lead us all down the primrose path to perdition.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Friday, October 06, 2006
Why so gloomy, Mainuh?
The Brookings Institution, a Washington, DC-based think tank, just released a report on Maine called, "Charting Maine's Future," which shows the state having significant economic potential. Despite the optimistic indicators, a pervading sense of pessimism fuels much of the political dialogue and much of our local talk radio.
For instance, If you listen to some in our state, like Ray Richardson, morning host of Fox 23/WLOB’s daily diatribe of “what’s wrong with Maine,” you’d think the only thing we need to do to solve all of Maine’s ills, is to take TABOR to our bosoms and embrace this “slash and burn” approach with the ardor reserved for a lost love, suddenly rediscovered.
However, a clearer understanding of the state’s issues, combined with enough economic theory to be dangerous, or at the very least, somewhat nuanced, will indicate that there are other variables involved.
The performance of our economic well-being is intricately connected to a combination of geography, workforce skills, technology development and the capabilities of local companies to raise and use capital resources, among other factors. Unlike Republican gubernatorial candidate, Chandler Woodcock’s suspiciously vague and negative view of Maine, simply pledging to lower taxes, create jobs and “solve the state’s economic woes,” moving our state forward is more about figuring out how to configure our priorities, amongst competing visions and political and bureaucratic fiefdoms. If we cut taxes, for instance, with TABOR’s slash and burn approach, it might actually aid business and assist with capital formation. However, if it comes at the expense of educating workers, it could mean a net loss for the economy, as many businesses are already contending with a serious shortage of talent in Maine.
The report is available online and is worth reading through.
For instance, If you listen to some in our state, like Ray Richardson, morning host of Fox 23/WLOB’s daily diatribe of “what’s wrong with Maine,” you’d think the only thing we need to do to solve all of Maine’s ills, is to take TABOR to our bosoms and embrace this “slash and burn” approach with the ardor reserved for a lost love, suddenly rediscovered.
However, a clearer understanding of the state’s issues, combined with enough economic theory to be dangerous, or at the very least, somewhat nuanced, will indicate that there are other variables involved.
The performance of our economic well-being is intricately connected to a combination of geography, workforce skills, technology development and the capabilities of local companies to raise and use capital resources, among other factors. Unlike Republican gubernatorial candidate, Chandler Woodcock’s suspiciously vague and negative view of Maine, simply pledging to lower taxes, create jobs and “solve the state’s economic woes,” moving our state forward is more about figuring out how to configure our priorities, amongst competing visions and political and bureaucratic fiefdoms. If we cut taxes, for instance, with TABOR’s slash and burn approach, it might actually aid business and assist with capital formation. However, if it comes at the expense of educating workers, it could mean a net loss for the economy, as many businesses are already contending with a serious shortage of talent in Maine.
The report is available online and is worth reading through.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Personal storytelling, songs and DIY
I hope my readers haven’t been put off by the recent case of Baumer navel-gazing. One of the complaints that some people have about blogging is its tendency towards overly personal and narcissistic excesses. That wasn’t my intention with The Baumer Family Writing Project (TBFWP). I thought Mark’s original idea worthwhile, very much in tune with tenets of DIY culture, which originated with the punk subculture of the late 1970s. If nothing else, it has created a bit of a “buzz” in our household, as meals have taken on a new importance, with less focus on the menu for the evening and instead, in anticipation of the entertainment for dessert.
While I remain forever a creature of politics and cultural criticism, there is only so much analysis and deconstruction that one person can take. For every poignant and cutting-edge piece of journalism that comes down the pike, there are hundreds of other attempts at commentary, analysis and political spin that are woeful at best and nauseating at their worst.
Back to DIY culture and TBFWP. With Mark and Mary stepping up and sharing their writing, it was now my own turn to put up, or shut up. While the past three years of freelancing has forced me up against the wall on numerous occasions, to meet an editor’s deadlines, the demands of our family-focused writing group caused me no small measure of anxiety. With Mark wanting regular contributions, every third night, I knew that work, responsibilities and life would make this unrealistic. My new job and recent reintroduction to my guitars found me without a piece of writing to share, as I started my day. Unlike previous gigs I’ve had connected with collecting a paycheck, my current gig requires eight hours of concentration and creativity. In addition, a late afternoon appointment in Augusta made throwing together a writing sample before dinner unlikely, if not impossible. Not to worry. Last night’s 90 minute guitar exercise gave me 20 minutes of lo-fi cassette chord changes and song structures to listen to in my car. One of these was actually quite good. A simple G, D, A chord pattern, capoed at the second fret, was the foundation for lyrics I scribbled on a notepad during my 45 minute trip home from our state capital.
I walked into the house, greeted by the welcoming smells of grilled pork chops, courtesy of Dave Gutter’s, in North Windham and some tender potatoes cooked in tinfoil on the grill.
When asked if I had something I’d written, I feigned busyness as an excuse, not sure if I could pull off my recent attempt at songwriting. After clearing the table, it was off to the basement, where I was greeted by my Fender tube amp apparently sporting a fried speaker at worst, or at least a loose connection, causing any electric axe work to be rendered fuzzed out and incoherent. Fortunately for me, I still have my trusty Yamaha, so I worked my way through the chords, while fitting my lyrics to the syncopation of my strumming.
“Crooked World,” written on my way home, is one of the better songs I’ve ever writte (not that my writing credits would ever rival Lennon/McCartney). Capturing some of the feelings I’ve been having about the world I live in, with a final verse placing the solution to the world’s problems squarely on the shoulders of individuals, not government, charismatic leaders or members of the entertainment industry, this four minute ditty has some possibilities, maybe even showing up at an open mic night some snowy night in November or December.
I’m sheepish to admit that I know so very little about podcasting. I’d be more than happy to put my lo-fi attempt at songsmithing up for others to listen to, but I know nothing about how to do it. I’d be very pleased if someone could send me a helpful link that gives me the basics of posting music files on the internet—a veritable podcasting 101.
I’m entertaining migrating our continuing attempts at being a DIY family to Write in Maine, as we continue the TBFWP into the near future. Since that site is more centered on writing and the craft of writing, that would probably be a good place for it.
As I end, my thoughts wander to an old article I wrote back in the good ole’ days of “direct action journalism” and The Portland Pigeon. Back in those days, long before I ever thought about a book, or starting a publishing company, it was just our little writing collective and the local stories we cared about, creating a simple 8 page free paper that mattered for this short, but formative period of time. My first contribution was "Democracy is Us," which even though it was written almost three years ago, still makes me feel good about the sentiments I attempted to get across.
While I’m not disavowing partaking of popular culture and books, music and movies produced for the masses, there is something special about writing one’s own story, article, or song and sharing it with others. The politics and cultural ruminations are certain to reappear, but writing personal stuff is where it all started, so it feels good to return to my roots.
While I remain forever a creature of politics and cultural criticism, there is only so much analysis and deconstruction that one person can take. For every poignant and cutting-edge piece of journalism that comes down the pike, there are hundreds of other attempts at commentary, analysis and political spin that are woeful at best and nauseating at their worst.
Back to DIY culture and TBFWP. With Mark and Mary stepping up and sharing their writing, it was now my own turn to put up, or shut up. While the past three years of freelancing has forced me up against the wall on numerous occasions, to meet an editor’s deadlines, the demands of our family-focused writing group caused me no small measure of anxiety. With Mark wanting regular contributions, every third night, I knew that work, responsibilities and life would make this unrealistic. My new job and recent reintroduction to my guitars found me without a piece of writing to share, as I started my day. Unlike previous gigs I’ve had connected with collecting a paycheck, my current gig requires eight hours of concentration and creativity. In addition, a late afternoon appointment in Augusta made throwing together a writing sample before dinner unlikely, if not impossible. Not to worry. Last night’s 90 minute guitar exercise gave me 20 minutes of lo-fi cassette chord changes and song structures to listen to in my car. One of these was actually quite good. A simple G, D, A chord pattern, capoed at the second fret, was the foundation for lyrics I scribbled on a notepad during my 45 minute trip home from our state capital.
I walked into the house, greeted by the welcoming smells of grilled pork chops, courtesy of Dave Gutter’s, in North Windham and some tender potatoes cooked in tinfoil on the grill.
When asked if I had something I’d written, I feigned busyness as an excuse, not sure if I could pull off my recent attempt at songwriting. After clearing the table, it was off to the basement, where I was greeted by my Fender tube amp apparently sporting a fried speaker at worst, or at least a loose connection, causing any electric axe work to be rendered fuzzed out and incoherent. Fortunately for me, I still have my trusty Yamaha, so I worked my way through the chords, while fitting my lyrics to the syncopation of my strumming.
“Crooked World,” written on my way home, is one of the better songs I’ve ever writte (not that my writing credits would ever rival Lennon/McCartney). Capturing some of the feelings I’ve been having about the world I live in, with a final verse placing the solution to the world’s problems squarely on the shoulders of individuals, not government, charismatic leaders or members of the entertainment industry, this four minute ditty has some possibilities, maybe even showing up at an open mic night some snowy night in November or December.
I’m sheepish to admit that I know so very little about podcasting. I’d be more than happy to put my lo-fi attempt at songsmithing up for others to listen to, but I know nothing about how to do it. I’d be very pleased if someone could send me a helpful link that gives me the basics of posting music files on the internet—a veritable podcasting 101.
I’m entertaining migrating our continuing attempts at being a DIY family to Write in Maine, as we continue the TBFWP into the near future. Since that site is more centered on writing and the craft of writing, that would probably be a good place for it.
As I end, my thoughts wander to an old article I wrote back in the good ole’ days of “direct action journalism” and The Portland Pigeon. Back in those days, long before I ever thought about a book, or starting a publishing company, it was just our little writing collective and the local stories we cared about, creating a simple 8 page free paper that mattered for this short, but formative period of time. My first contribution was "Democracy is Us," which even though it was written almost three years ago, still makes me feel good about the sentiments I attempted to get across.
While I’m not disavowing partaking of popular culture and books, music and movies produced for the masses, there is something special about writing one’s own story, article, or song and sharing it with others. The politics and cultural ruminations are certain to reappear, but writing personal stuff is where it all started, so it feels good to return to my roots.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Done with the Dew
Last week, Mark came downstairs, with a big, shit-eating grin on his face. When Mary asked him what's up, he said he had "an announcement." I thought, "good lord," not another hitchhiking adventure, to who knows where, or possibly, he might be off to join a monastary. Not to worry--he was only suggesting that we regularly turn our evening meal into a writer's group, better known as, "The Baumer Family Writing Project," or forever to be known as, TBFWP.
Last Thursday's post, "Ice Cream Truck Days, No More!" was TBFWP installment #1. Next up, Mary Baumer, with her first contribution, about the evils of corporate carbonated beverages, or how Mountain Dew didn't kill me, it only made me stronger.
So Long Diet Mountain Dew
by, Mary Baumer
I remember when I was maybe 9 years old and my oldest sister, Sue, who was 18 at the time, used to drink Tab. I couldn’t believe she could drink that stuff. It was horrible. When I was growing up the Tarazewich drink of choice would usually be Ginger Ale. We didn’t get it often but when we did it was a treat. The Ginger Ale would be kept in our spare refrigerator alongside of Dad’s Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.
Growing up we usually would have Kool-Aid and Zarex--I preferred Kool-Aid. We often made freeze it pops out of Kool-Aid. My favorite was lemonade/Kool-Aid freeze pops. You could suck out the juice and be left with unflavored half frozen ice pops.
Since I was the last child at home I got more privilege than my 3 siblings. I got soda right through high school. Ginger Ale was still there along side of Diet Pepsi and Tab. I was pretty skinny growing up so I didn’t worry about calories. I didn’t need to drink the diet soda for the noncalories or the caffeine.
I really don’t think I started drinking diet soda on a regular basis until maybe 15 years ago. I would buy Diet Pepsi in the 48 pack. It would last a month with my husband and I drinking it.
I don’t know when I started drinking Mountain Dew. I do remember driving from Maine to Virgina with my sister, Dianne, and her daughter, Aja. We had to take Aja to her college orientation at Lynchburg College. I remember bringing my stash of regular Mountain Dew, not diet with me. It was a long trip drinking my sister’s 1989 Ford Tiempo. It was a basic car without cruise control. I got my sister hooked on Mountain Dew. It gave her the energy boost she needed to get through the trip. The problem was YOU NEEDED A DEW to have the ENERGY to stay AWAKE but then you had the problem of needing to find a bathroom to relieve yourself. That began our quest to rank the bathrooms we visited. One of our first bathrooms somewhere in MA was one of the filthiest on our trip. We had a major dilemna on our way home from VA--that of having drunk a 28 oz bottle of Dew and being stuck in a traffic jam. It was July 4th weekend so the traffic was barely moving. We were inching along near some woods. Dianne was ready to jump from behind the wheel and into the woods to relieve herself. Instead, she suffered through her pain.
After that I went to Diet Mountain Dew. I even got my mother drinking it. She would buy the 2 liter bottles for when company would come. The problem with my mother is someone might have opened the bottle a week ago so the Dew would be flat. My mother is also known for her lovely freezer burn desserts.
Up to this point I never drank coffee. Around the time of 2001 I started working as a sales executive and became a coffee drinker. My favorite coffee was and still is today, hazelnut with Half and Half. None of that crappy Cremora. I soon didn’t even need sugar in my coffee. I only can drink coffee until about 10am in the morning then I would change to my drink of choice Diet Mountain Dew for the afternoon. I would maybe drink one in the afternoon. I’m not sure when I started not drinking any water during the day and everytime I would be thirsty, I'd just crack open a can of Diet Mountain Dew. I couldn’t wait to take that first gulp. It was like heaven, tasting that lukewarm (piss?-editor's addition) Diet Mountain Dew. I have grown not to really care for cold Mountain Dew. It has a different taste. I even like flat Mountain Dew. It’s nice to get in the car in the morning and finish a few swigs of yesterday’s mountain dew.
I started stopping at the super market and buying a 2-24 packs of Diet Mountain Dew. I would buy a 48 pack but they don’t come in 48 packs. So I would buy one pack for my car and one for home. I couldn’t keep a pack in my car overnight during the winter pack or you run into a problem of frozen protruding diet mountain cans. I did have a few can explode on me at times. The lone can that was forgotten in my car trunk that looked like it was struck by nuclear cold weather.
In the last 6 months, my car supply of Mountain Dew would not last me the week. I would usually have to stock up during the week. If you got in my car, you could always hear the clanking of the emptys hitting each other. When I would finish a dew in who be thrown into the back side floor to kept the other empties company.
When one day, I went home early from work and watched Oprah. That is the day my life changed! Oprah had this stay-at-home Mom who drank massive amounts of Diet Pepsi, didn’t eat right or exercise. Then with Oprah’s help, she changed her life. She started drinking water in place of the diet soda, as well as eating healthy and exercising. Watching the show I realized I needed help! I felt horrible--tired all the time. So because I was tired, I drank Diet Mountain Dew to give me the energy boost. But it just didn’t make me feel so good. I decided to drink water in place of the Mountain Dew. Now I carry a cooler in my car filled with water. I drink massive amounts of water. I have been flushing out of my system all the bad stuff. Now my problem is finding a bathroom. But I feel a hell of a lot better. The other day I did backslide and drink one Diet Mountain Dew as I felt I needed the caffiene. I bought 2-24 Diet Mountain Dew packs about 3 weeks ago and they are still are waiting to be drunk.
So…………..so long Diet Mountain Dew it’s been a great trip but I need to move on without you! I will miss you especially on those 90 degree days when I would crack open a can and heated Mountain Dew would go sliding down my throat.
Last Thursday's post, "Ice Cream Truck Days, No More!" was TBFWP installment #1. Next up, Mary Baumer, with her first contribution, about the evils of corporate carbonated beverages, or how Mountain Dew didn't kill me, it only made me stronger.
So Long Diet Mountain Dew
by, Mary Baumer
I remember when I was maybe 9 years old and my oldest sister, Sue, who was 18 at the time, used to drink Tab. I couldn’t believe she could drink that stuff. It was horrible. When I was growing up the Tarazewich drink of choice would usually be Ginger Ale. We didn’t get it often but when we did it was a treat. The Ginger Ale would be kept in our spare refrigerator alongside of Dad’s Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.
Growing up we usually would have Kool-Aid and Zarex--I preferred Kool-Aid. We often made freeze it pops out of Kool-Aid. My favorite was lemonade/Kool-Aid freeze pops. You could suck out the juice and be left with unflavored half frozen ice pops.
Since I was the last child at home I got more privilege than my 3 siblings. I got soda right through high school. Ginger Ale was still there along side of Diet Pepsi and Tab. I was pretty skinny growing up so I didn’t worry about calories. I didn’t need to drink the diet soda for the noncalories or the caffeine.
I really don’t think I started drinking diet soda on a regular basis until maybe 15 years ago. I would buy Diet Pepsi in the 48 pack. It would last a month with my husband and I drinking it.
I don’t know when I started drinking Mountain Dew. I do remember driving from Maine to Virgina with my sister, Dianne, and her daughter, Aja. We had to take Aja to her college orientation at Lynchburg College. I remember bringing my stash of regular Mountain Dew, not diet with me. It was a long trip drinking my sister’s 1989 Ford Tiempo. It was a basic car without cruise control. I got my sister hooked on Mountain Dew. It gave her the energy boost she needed to get through the trip. The problem was YOU NEEDED A DEW to have the ENERGY to stay AWAKE but then you had the problem of needing to find a bathroom to relieve yourself. That began our quest to rank the bathrooms we visited. One of our first bathrooms somewhere in MA was one of the filthiest on our trip. We had a major dilemna on our way home from VA--that of having drunk a 28 oz bottle of Dew and being stuck in a traffic jam. It was July 4th weekend so the traffic was barely moving. We were inching along near some woods. Dianne was ready to jump from behind the wheel and into the woods to relieve herself. Instead, she suffered through her pain.
After that I went to Diet Mountain Dew. I even got my mother drinking it. She would buy the 2 liter bottles for when company would come. The problem with my mother is someone might have opened the bottle a week ago so the Dew would be flat. My mother is also known for her lovely freezer burn desserts.
Up to this point I never drank coffee. Around the time of 2001 I started working as a sales executive and became a coffee drinker. My favorite coffee was and still is today, hazelnut with Half and Half. None of that crappy Cremora. I soon didn’t even need sugar in my coffee. I only can drink coffee until about 10am in the morning then I would change to my drink of choice Diet Mountain Dew for the afternoon. I would maybe drink one in the afternoon. I’m not sure when I started not drinking any water during the day and everytime I would be thirsty, I'd just crack open a can of Diet Mountain Dew. I couldn’t wait to take that first gulp. It was like heaven, tasting that lukewarm (piss?-editor's addition) Diet Mountain Dew. I have grown not to really care for cold Mountain Dew. It has a different taste. I even like flat Mountain Dew. It’s nice to get in the car in the morning and finish a few swigs of yesterday’s mountain dew.
I started stopping at the super market and buying a 2-24 packs of Diet Mountain Dew. I would buy a 48 pack but they don’t come in 48 packs. So I would buy one pack for my car and one for home. I couldn’t keep a pack in my car overnight during the winter pack or you run into a problem of frozen protruding diet mountain cans. I did have a few can explode on me at times. The lone can that was forgotten in my car trunk that looked like it was struck by nuclear cold weather.
In the last 6 months, my car supply of Mountain Dew would not last me the week. I would usually have to stock up during the week. If you got in my car, you could always hear the clanking of the emptys hitting each other. When I would finish a dew in who be thrown into the back side floor to kept the other empties company.
When one day, I went home early from work and watched Oprah. That is the day my life changed! Oprah had this stay-at-home Mom who drank massive amounts of Diet Pepsi, didn’t eat right or exercise. Then with Oprah’s help, she changed her life. She started drinking water in place of the diet soda, as well as eating healthy and exercising. Watching the show I realized I needed help! I felt horrible--tired all the time. So because I was tired, I drank Diet Mountain Dew to give me the energy boost. But it just didn’t make me feel so good. I decided to drink water in place of the Mountain Dew. Now I carry a cooler in my car filled with water. I drink massive amounts of water. I have been flushing out of my system all the bad stuff. Now my problem is finding a bathroom. But I feel a hell of a lot better. The other day I did backslide and drink one Diet Mountain Dew as I felt I needed the caffiene. I bought 2-24 Diet Mountain Dew packs about 3 weeks ago and they are still are waiting to be drunk.
So…………..so long Diet Mountain Dew it’s been a great trip but I need to move on without you! I will miss you especially on those 90 degree days when I would crack open a can and heated Mountain Dew would go sliding down my throat.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Right-wing people are better than left-wing people...
The other morning, while driving down to the Get and Go, Durham's one and only store where you can buy gas for your mower, I happened to hear a caller on a Saturday morning talk show, bloviating about our war criminal president.
“George Bush is a man of integrity. He’s restored dignity to the office of president. Unlike Clinton, he’s a leader and follows his convictions, like staying the course in Iraq.”
As I drove back home, for my three hour weekly aerobic workout, called mowing my lawn, I contemplated the level of delusion that is required for people like this caller, to keep all their ideological balls in the air. This phenomenon isn’t unique to one end of the political spectrum, either.
While it’s easy for me and many others, who have a visceral dislike and even hatred for George Bush, having his presidency foisted upon us for the past eight years, particularly galling in that a clear case could be made that he wasn’t legitimately elected, there are many folks who support Democrats unconditionally, willing to overlook clear violations of their party’s “code of honor.”
Having said that, to listen to many on the right, twist themselves with pretzel logic, to support their flag-waving, “I’m more patriotic than you, you fucking liberal commie, ‘cause I’m a Republican and you support terrorists” way of parsing politics does grow a tad weary, at times.
Maybe I just don’t want to support the “wah on terrah,” torture, a $30 billion boondoggle, called the reconstruction of Iraq, or even, right-wing cover-ups of on of their perverts by the “party of values.”
That doesn’t make me a bad person and it sure as hell doesn’t make me any less an American, just because I’ve never plastered a yellow ribbon (s), or a useless “support our troops” bumper sticker on my SUV (actually, I own an eight-year-old Taurus)!
“George Bush is a man of integrity. He’s restored dignity to the office of president. Unlike Clinton, he’s a leader and follows his convictions, like staying the course in Iraq.”
As I drove back home, for my three hour weekly aerobic workout, called mowing my lawn, I contemplated the level of delusion that is required for people like this caller, to keep all their ideological balls in the air. This phenomenon isn’t unique to one end of the political spectrum, either.
While it’s easy for me and many others, who have a visceral dislike and even hatred for George Bush, having his presidency foisted upon us for the past eight years, particularly galling in that a clear case could be made that he wasn’t legitimately elected, there are many folks who support Democrats unconditionally, willing to overlook clear violations of their party’s “code of honor.”
Having said that, to listen to many on the right, twist themselves with pretzel logic, to support their flag-waving, “I’m more patriotic than you, you fucking liberal commie, ‘cause I’m a Republican and you support terrorists” way of parsing politics does grow a tad weary, at times.
Maybe I just don’t want to support the “wah on terrah,” torture, a $30 billion boondoggle, called the reconstruction of Iraq, or even, right-wing cover-ups of on of their perverts by the “party of values.”
That doesn’t make me a bad person and it sure as hell doesn’t make me any less an American, just because I’ve never plastered a yellow ribbon (s), or a useless “support our troops” bumper sticker on my SUV (actually, I own an eight-year-old Taurus)!
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