Thursday, October 9, 2008
"When the messiah speaks"
Guess who? For those of you asleep at the wheel, please wake up before you do irreparable damage!
I don't know about the rest of you, but...
at least there's always hope for Texas, no matter if the chosen one fools enough fools to steal this election.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
While you may be a funny man Jon, you are not quite as smart as you believe you are.
For those of you who, like Jon Stewart, probably get all of your gun expertise from Hollyweird...yeah, I'm gonna have to disagree with him on this one. I won't dispute that it makes for good comedy, but actually, Beretta makes a few other products than just hand guns. This is the danger of getting the core of your news from a comedian kiddos. Not that this clarifies whatever the point Joe Biden was trying to get across. What the...?
Only in America will you see such a display of integrity and intellect.
So let me get this straight. You're gonna vote for Barack (and not just once) so he can do his, um, thug thizzle? I see stupid people.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Happy Memorial Day! Remember what it's all about.
I hope all of you have a safe and enjoyable Memorial Day. Let's all take some time to remember all of our fallen heroes that have served our wonderful United States of America in giving up their lives for our liberty. This is still the BEST nation in the world and I thank God for the blessing of waking up every morning here in a nation that provides me the freedom to pursue my dreams.
I came accross this exerpt from Ronald Reagan's farewell speech:
"So, we've got to teach history based not on what's in fashion, but what's important: Why the Pilgrims came here, who Jimmy Doolittle was, and what those 30 seconds over Tokyo meant. You know, four years ago on the 40th anniversary of D-Day, I read a letter from a young woman writing of her late father, who'd fought on Omaha Beach. Her name was Lisa Zanatta Henn, and she said, "We will always remember, we will never forget what the boys of Normandy did." Well, let's help her keep her word. If we forget what we did, we won't know who we are. I'm warning of an eradication of the American memory that could result, ultimately, in an erosion of the American spirit.
Let's start with some basics: more attention to American history and a greater emphasis on civic ritual. And let me offer lesson No. 1 about America: All great change in America begins at the dinner table. So, tomorrow night in the kitchen I hope the talking begins. And children, if your parents haven't been teaching you what it means to be an American, let 'em know and nail 'em on it. That would be a very American thing to do.
And that's about all I have to say tonight. Except for one thing. The past few days when I've been at that window upstairs, I've thought a bit of the "shining city upon a hill." The phrase comes from John Winthrop, who wrote it to describe the America he imagined. What he imagined was important because he was an early Pilgrim, an early freedom man. He journeyed here on what today we'd call a little wooden boat; and like the other Pilgrims, he was looking for a home that would be free.
I've spoken of the shining city all my political life, but I don't know if I ever quite communicated what I saw when I said it. But in my mind it was a tall proud city built on rocks stronger than oceans, wind-swept, God-blessed, and teeming with people of all kinds living in harmony and peace, a city with free ports that hummed with commerce and creativity, and if there had to be city walls, the walls had doors and the doors were open to anyone with the will and the heart to get here. That's how I saw it and see it still."
Let us all remember the sacrifice that our armed forces make for our great country today. God bless America.
I came accross this exerpt from Ronald Reagan's farewell speech:
"So, we've got to teach history based not on what's in fashion, but what's important: Why the Pilgrims came here, who Jimmy Doolittle was, and what those 30 seconds over Tokyo meant. You know, four years ago on the 40th anniversary of D-Day, I read a letter from a young woman writing of her late father, who'd fought on Omaha Beach. Her name was Lisa Zanatta Henn, and she said, "We will always remember, we will never forget what the boys of Normandy did." Well, let's help her keep her word. If we forget what we did, we won't know who we are. I'm warning of an eradication of the American memory that could result, ultimately, in an erosion of the American spirit.
Let's start with some basics: more attention to American history and a greater emphasis on civic ritual. And let me offer lesson No. 1 about America: All great change in America begins at the dinner table. So, tomorrow night in the kitchen I hope the talking begins. And children, if your parents haven't been teaching you what it means to be an American, let 'em know and nail 'em on it. That would be a very American thing to do.
And that's about all I have to say tonight. Except for one thing. The past few days when I've been at that window upstairs, I've thought a bit of the "shining city upon a hill." The phrase comes from John Winthrop, who wrote it to describe the America he imagined. What he imagined was important because he was an early Pilgrim, an early freedom man. He journeyed here on what today we'd call a little wooden boat; and like the other Pilgrims, he was looking for a home that would be free.
I've spoken of the shining city all my political life, but I don't know if I ever quite communicated what I saw when I said it. But in my mind it was a tall proud city built on rocks stronger than oceans, wind-swept, God-blessed, and teeming with people of all kinds living in harmony and peace, a city with free ports that hummed with commerce and creativity, and if there had to be city walls, the walls had doors and the doors were open to anyone with the will and the heart to get here. That's how I saw it and see it still."
Let us all remember the sacrifice that our armed forces make for our great country today. God bless America.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Monday, March 10, 2008
The Bluest Monday of My Life
Today was by far the bluest Monday of all Mondays I have had to live through. My wife and I had to make the difficult decision to euthanize the oldest of our four Maltese pups today. Missy had just turned six last November and we swore we'd see her live at least another six. The complexity of life had different ideas about that.
It all started when I took her to the vet last Wednesday afternoon after noticing that her urine was a dark brown color. The vet had no luck getting a urine sample from Missy that afternoon, so she asked that we bring her in the next morning to leave her for the day. My wife noticed that she was somewhat lethargic that next morning while walking her, and the vet subsequently found her pack cell volume (measurement of red blood cells per volume of whole blood) was dangerously low.
Later that morning, at the vet's suggestion, I left my job for the day to transfer Missy to a 24 hour pet emergency hospital nearby. They almost immediately gave her a blood transfusion.
For those of you who do not know, hemoglobin is a protein that gives red blood cells their red color. Hemoglobin, and thus rbc's, are necessary for the transport of oxygen molecules from your lungs to the rest of your tissues, organs, etc. If you run out of rbc's, your body basically dies from oxygen starvation.
The doctors had pretty much decided Missy was suffering from an acute onset of Immune Mediated Hemolytic Anemia. Her own body was basically attacking her red blood cells and destroying them faster than she could regenerate them.
Anyway, like I said, my wife had dropped Missy off at our regular vet that morning on the way to catch a plane out of town for work. Needless to say, by the time she landed at her destination, the news of Missy's condition had reached her and she immediately reboarded another flight back home.
Basically, after a four day and night roller coaster of two blood transfusions and regimens of multiple steroids and antibiotics, Missy's PCV dropped dramatically overnight last night. The doctor suggested we get to the pet hospital as soon as we could to discuss Missy's prognosis this morning. After a hard look at the facts and a deep gut check, we decided to take Missy over to our regular vet in order to put her to sleep.
Our vet reminded us that an extra day bought at the vet is NOT a quality day for our dog. I've done this once before, but it was a dog much older and much more ill. It's one of the hardest things I'll ever have to do letting go of a pet to ensure they never suffer physical pain or distress for a second of their life. Every vet we spoke with said her chances of recovering at any point is no better than 50% and I just couldn't leave her one more night in that cage at the pet hospital.
As I was holding her in my arms that blue Monday morning at the pet hospital, she didn't let my wife out of her sight, even as she struggled to keep her exhausted little eyes open. I truly believe she didn't want her mommy to leave her there one more time. I've never seen her so at peace when my wife was holding her. I believe that's where she wanted to be forever from that time on. She rested her head on her shoulder like nothing else mattered.
As we waited in an office at our personal vet I was holding Missy and the minute she heard his voice , she wagged her tail for a few seconds. I hadn't seen her wag her tail in days. I believe she knew he was the one that would make it all better. And he did. Marcie held her like the teddy bear she was for about an hour after she fell asleep that final time. It was a chilly and overcast day. It was the bluest Monday I've ever known.
It all started when I took her to the vet last Wednesday afternoon after noticing that her urine was a dark brown color. The vet had no luck getting a urine sample from Missy that afternoon, so she asked that we bring her in the next morning to leave her for the day. My wife noticed that she was somewhat lethargic that next morning while walking her, and the vet subsequently found her pack cell volume (measurement of red blood cells per volume of whole blood) was dangerously low.
Later that morning, at the vet's suggestion, I left my job for the day to transfer Missy to a 24 hour pet emergency hospital nearby. They almost immediately gave her a blood transfusion.
For those of you who do not know, hemoglobin is a protein that gives red blood cells their red color. Hemoglobin, and thus rbc's, are necessary for the transport of oxygen molecules from your lungs to the rest of your tissues, organs, etc. If you run out of rbc's, your body basically dies from oxygen starvation.
The doctors had pretty much decided Missy was suffering from an acute onset of Immune Mediated Hemolytic Anemia. Her own body was basically attacking her red blood cells and destroying them faster than she could regenerate them.
Anyway, like I said, my wife had dropped Missy off at our regular vet that morning on the way to catch a plane out of town for work. Needless to say, by the time she landed at her destination, the news of Missy's condition had reached her and she immediately reboarded another flight back home.
Basically, after a four day and night roller coaster of two blood transfusions and regimens of multiple steroids and antibiotics, Missy's PCV dropped dramatically overnight last night. The doctor suggested we get to the pet hospital as soon as we could to discuss Missy's prognosis this morning. After a hard look at the facts and a deep gut check, we decided to take Missy over to our regular vet in order to put her to sleep.
Our vet reminded us that an extra day bought at the vet is NOT a quality day for our dog. I've done this once before, but it was a dog much older and much more ill. It's one of the hardest things I'll ever have to do letting go of a pet to ensure they never suffer physical pain or distress for a second of their life. Every vet we spoke with said her chances of recovering at any point is no better than 50% and I just couldn't leave her one more night in that cage at the pet hospital.
As I was holding her in my arms that blue Monday morning at the pet hospital, she didn't let my wife out of her sight, even as she struggled to keep her exhausted little eyes open. I truly believe she didn't want her mommy to leave her there one more time. I've never seen her so at peace when my wife was holding her. I believe that's where she wanted to be forever from that time on. She rested her head on her shoulder like nothing else mattered.
As we waited in an office at our personal vet I was holding Missy and the minute she heard his voice , she wagged her tail for a few seconds. I hadn't seen her wag her tail in days. I believe she knew he was the one that would make it all better. And he did. Marcie held her like the teddy bear she was for about an hour after she fell asleep that final time. It was a chilly and overcast day. It was the bluest Monday I've ever known.
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