Why is Ron Paul the Rodney Dangerfield of the GOP race?

For those following the Republican Party's nomination proceedings it must be at least somewhat curious how the second place finisher in New Hampshire gets 'no respect'. 

While I've heard the Texas congressman described by some as a 'wacko' for his Libertarian views, I would welcome a Presidential election in November between Mr.  Paul and President Obama.  For once there would be a clear and distinctive choice, Ron Paul his a  HUGE ELL Libertarian.

For those unclear on what it means to be Libertarian, do not confuse it with Liberal, nothing could be further from reality.  Liberal politicians typically  believe that government has a major role to play in running society, be it via taxes or regulations.  From our Canadian lens its obvious we don't have a Libertarian party, with the Liberals, Conservatives and NDP all arguing about how best to run BIG GOVERNMENT.

Ron Paul has been advocating for years that the U.S. federal government stop encroaching on State responsibilities like education.  Ironically, or perhaps fittingly, this is what America's founding fathers had in mind when they drafted their constitution.

Americans typically adore their constitution, sometimes with religious zeal.  So why hasn't this Texas Dr. caught on?

I think the answer is simple.  I don't expect corporate media to tout his candidacy at all, even though they're desperately searching for someone....anyone...who can challenge Romney and juice up the race.  Business interests love the current system in the U.S, as do politicians benefiting from all the lobbying and insider stock trading tips.

Politics is for me a spectator sport  much of the time, and certainly so when it involves our neighbours to the south.  Here's one hoser though who's hoping the GOP is ready for an old style truly conservative Republican candidate for President. 

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This might be my last Christmas

Christmas time is a special time, a joyous time, a time of magic.

But it can also be a very stressing season. People worry about all manner of things: buying the right gifts, getting the right cards to send in the mail, adorning the house, picking the perfect tree. Many likely know of a street or a neighborhood where there seems to be something of an outdoor lights competition, with houses vying with one another for the Griswald cup.

I wonder though, how differently this season might be if everyone were faced with the very real possibility that this Christmas might be their last Christmas here on Earth.

Rather than tell you about myself right now. I want to tell you about a friend of mine. Someone who passed away very recently. My friend never realized that last Christmas was his last Christmas. Had he known that last Christmas was to be his last Christmas, would he have celebrated it differently? I can't help but think that he would have.

I imagine he would have taken in much more than decorations and gift giving. I'm convinced that a company holiday party and open houses would have seemed totally different.

Had my friend known that he was celebrating his last Christmas, I'm convinced his senses would have been on overdrive to the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, even to the texture of this wonderful time of year. Most of all though, I'm sure he would have cherished the love that surrounded him, love that remains even though he is no longer with us in body.

Ironic that I should be contemplating these questions during the Yule season. It is at this time of year when nature goes to bed, when so much of creation hunkers down for a long sleep. That is how many regard death and passing on, as going to sleep.

But if nature teaches us anything, it teaches us that a winter sleep is not permanent. Trees shed their leaves and are blanketed with snow, flowers wither and disappear. The grass turns brown and becomes hard and frozen and seemingly dead, waiting for its blanket of white. But even as the days grow shorter and shorter with less and less of the sun's warmth, we know that rebirth and renewal are only a short time away.

That's what makes this time of year so special, its why we have celebrated this season for thousands of years. Its a time to cherish what we have before it passes on, yet we are joyful and full of expectation because we know that renewal is close at hand.

Is this my last Christmas? I don't know, it could be, but I hope not. I'm not dying, at least not in the clinical sense. Of course in reality, we're all dying, some are just closer to their final Christmas than others. But nobody is told when they'll pass on, my friend certainly wasn't.

There are many people who will be, in fact, celebrating their last Christmas, and the possibility exists that I may be one of that number. That's probably why some are reading this right now, we're all aware of our own mortality, no matter how hard we try to ignore it.  I'm not the first to say it, from the time we draw our first breath we all start to die. 

= 

I'm going to celebrate this Christmas as I believe it is meant to be celebrated, as my last before rebirth.

Merry Christmas all.

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Drinks, the donut shop and the fight

For reasons I will explain at a later time, I am in something of a reflective mood of late.  A comment on a recent post about the virtues of Canada's 10th province, Newfoundland, got me to thinking about an experience I had with a 'Newfie' some twenty years back.

A long time ago, when I was around twenty years of age, I got the tar kicked out of me.  It was the last fight I ever engaged in.  Yes, the individual whose clothes I dirtied with my blood, he was a Newfie.

I was out with a young woman named Annie, I wouldn't say we were dating though, we were out drinking.  Actually, drinking would be understating it, we were getting smashed, sloggered, sloshed.  Annie was a native Australian, and she had boasted that she could drink me under the table.  Being a proud Canadian I had to take up the challenge, so we headed to a local watering hole. 

Who won? 

Neither of us ended up under the table, so I'll call it a draw.  But given that I am the one telling this tale, and given equally that everyone likes to be the hero of their own narratives, I will include this.  I was mixing  between beer, rye, rhum and vodka, while Annie stuck with beer.  So maybe I did win.

After the bar closed Annie and I headed to a coffee shop close by.  Nothing unusual, two drunks sipping coffee and acting stupid.  And we weren't the only ones either, Frank was there too, the Newfie in this story.  I knew Frankie, he'd been a neighbour of mine years before, and we'd never had any problems, but then we'd never been in the same place at the same time, both pissed to the gills, with an attractive young woman present.

Frankie, oblivious to my presence, aside from a cursory greeting, took to flirting with Annie.  I tend to avoid confrontation as a rule, so I simply asked Frank to leave us alone...saying something banal like: "Frank, do you mind"?

It actually worked, Frank moved back to his booth, but being likely as drunk as we were, he came back again and again to flirt with Annie.  Finally realizing that polite requests to leave us be weren't going to work, I got much bolder, saying something close to:  "Frankie, would you just f*** right off"!!!

Now I'd done it, this was a challenge and Frank wasn't one to back down.  I have Irish descendants myself, and Annie was out with me dammit!!!  I know I said we weren't actually a couple or anything, in point of fact Annie had a bit of a reputation, she was considered by some to be the town bike.  Well it was my turn!!!

Once outside I took the full measure of my opponent.  He was maybe 6'2" and a roofer by trade, probably about 210 pounds of solid construction working muscle.  I had my 5'11 inches of 190 pound office working muscle to do battle with. 

In short, I was dead. 

Too add to the physical disadvantage I was at, Frankie I later learned, had only just got out of jail.  Realizing I had zero chance of winning this fight, but equally realizing there was no way to back down, I threw myself at him and actually managed to get him down on the ground in a headlock.  I believe I had the better of him for perhaps a nanosecond.  It wasn't long before I was on the ground getting the boots taken to me.  I use the word boots strictly as an expression, they were in fact running shoes, and thank God for that. 

The police came touring through the parking lot not long thereafter and were quick upon the scene.  They intervened, and with me being supported by two friends inquired: 

"What happened here"?

Now, like many people there have been times where, long after a particular incident, I think of the perfect thing to say, this was not one of those times.  Rather than coming out with something dumb I actually thought of the right thing to say on the spot.  I didn't want anything more to come of this, and I knew that Frankie had had his share of incidents with the local police.  I wasn't going to be a rat in other words.  My exchange with the cops was this:

"What happened here"?

"I fell".

Incredulous, "You fell"?!?!?

"Repeatedly".

The onlookers even chuckled.  A note to anyone who wants to come up with snappy retorts on the spot, get drunk and be suffering from a slight concussion.

That should be the end of the tale, but its not.  A week or so later I was having a drink after work in a bar when the waitress brought me another that I hadn`t ordered.  Telling her this she pointed over to the bar and told me it was from a guy sitting at the end. 

That guy?  Frankie the newf :-)

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Living large in la ville de Québec

I am settling in nicely here in what is probably the most historic city in Canada.  This blog is of course suffering from a dearth of new material, something that I will be rectifying in the next few weeks.  

I am now an anglo living in a sea of French culture and language, and I am loving it.  Ma français c`est pas encore assez bien pour écrire, mais je débrouille sans beaucoup des problèmes.  For now I will stick with the English language, however as time goes on I might `ajoute` a little French "de temps en temps".

Keep well and keep checking back, its appreciated.  I likely will be publishing once a week once I am more settled in. 

Salut TLM

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