Columnist.
On consecutive days last week, I had the unusual experience of having lunch on Wednesday with my oldest friend and, on Thursday, lunching with my oldest friend, and they weren't the same person.
I could almost feel sorry for Angela Merkel if only her good intentions hadn't led so inevitably to the murders and rapes that have plagued Germany ever since Frau Merkel swung open her nation's doors to 400,000 of the Islamic scum.
One is always hearing about safe zones being set aside for Syrians and collegiate liberals, but never even one for rational American patriots. Why is that? Why can't we be protected from the constant barrage of insults and left-wing stupidity hurled our way? How is it that nobody ever gives us stuffed toys, modeling clay, warm blankets, sugar donuts and comfort dogs?
I know that liberals still can't get their little heads around what happened on November 8th, but now that the 538 Electors have had their say, isn't it high time they accepted the inconvenient truth that we won and they (tee-he) lost?
I am amazed at how much better I feel about America's future, all thanks to Donald Trump's having vanquished Hillary Clinton. Elections, even presidential elections, don't always have that much riding on their outcome. But this one did.
I know that some of us feel that liberals have come to earth from outer space, which is why we sometimes refer to them as space cadets. But they are much more like those dumb kids back in grade school whom we insisted had been AWOL when the brains were passed out.
The pundits, as usual were up in arms because Donald Trump had accepted a congratulatory call from the president of Taiwan. They weren't alone. The bureaucrats who take up far too much space at the State Department were also having conniptions. So was China.
This is the time of year when the thoughts of many people turn to money, if only because they keep wondering how they're ever going to be able to pay off the debt they're racking up in the name of Santa Claus.
I'm not sure when politics were first Balkanized in America, but I suspect it may have happened in the 1930s when FDR set about waging class warfare in order to make it possible for one man to win four consecutive presidential elections, something nobody had ever even considered, let alone attempted.
I recently wondered if all those nations and individuals who have been filling the Clinton coffers for, lo, these many years, were now going to insist that all those humongous speaking fees and bribes masquerading as charitable donations be returned.
When, back in 2011, I was writing my book, "67 Conservatives You Should Meet Before You Die," I introduced the chapter devoted to Tucker Carlson by writing: "In spite of his young age," which was then 42, "Mr. Carlson has been a major figure in the conservative movement for several years. He is the co-founder and editor-in-chief of the Daily Caller and is one of the clearest-thinking contributors to Fox News. One of the things I like best about him is that, in spite of its having become a trademark of his, the good taste that often comes with maturity finally prevailed and he gave up bow-ties, once and for all."
Somehow, while I was distracted watching the Democrats trying to deal with the first two stages of grief — denial and anger — someone pulled off a switcheroo and exchanged a body and hair double for the actual Donald Trump.
I must confess that as a young boy, I never fantasized about growing up to be a political pundit. The truth is that even though I have been devoting most of my attention to the political scene for the past 16 years, if I were out walking and someone were to holler "Hey, pundit!" I would probably look around to see if someone like Charles Krauthammer or George Will was in the neighborhood.
Until recently, I had no idea there was a single word that described Obama's two terms and what we faced if Hillary Clinton had been elected. A kakistocracy is defined as "a government by the least qualified or worst persons." I don't think it's a mere coincidence that the word sounds like a combination of kaka and catastrophe.
A while ago, I had occasion to mention that librarians were among my favorite people. I didn't go into any details except to say that when I was about 11 years old, a librarian commented on the heaviness of the books I was checking out, and because I thought she was referring to their actual weight, I showed her the satchel I had brought along. I was a couple of blocks away before it occurred to me that she was referring to the mature nature of the material, and I was truly impressed that she hadn't busted out laughing. Heck, it even struck me as funny in an embarrassing sort of way.
Emotions like euphoria and jubilation are alien to me, but that is how I've felt since the wee hours of November 9th. Talk about Hope and Change! Whereas I usually get a nose bleed long before I get anywhere near cloud nine, I've been floating on cloud eighteen for days now. To sum up, I can only say that Thanksgiving came a little early this year.
In a recent article, while dealing with the absurdity of Bob Dylan being awarded the Nobel Peace for Literature, I mentioned that far worse miscarriages of justice occur when the Nobel Peace Prize is awarded to the likes of Woodrow Wilson, Henry Kissinger, Le Duc Tho, Yasir Arafat and the U.N. Peacekeeping Forces. But as a couple of my readers pointed out, I somehow neglected to mention Jimmy Carter, Al Gore and Barack Obama.
Someone recently sent me a passel of jokes about retired people. A bit further on, I'll share the better ones. But it got me to thinking about my own status. Every so often, when filling out forms, one of the questions I'm asked is if I'm retired. Inasmuch as I'll be turning 77 in January, assuming I make it five days into the new year, I sometimes get the feeling I should be on the sidelines with my feet up, mulling over the foibles and follies of my life. Instead I'm busier than I've ever been, writing three or four articles a week, wrapping up a movie I wrote and co-produced, and with two books on the verge of publication.
If I didn't have baseball for six months of the year, I don't know how I'd survive. Although that happens to be the way I feel every year, it's especially true every fourth year when people I probably wouldn't invite into my home vie to take up residency in the White House. As you all know by now, I do not like or admire Donald Trump. But I would walk barefoot across burning coals if it would keep Mrs. Clinton out of the Oval Office. We have had crooks, racists, socialists, incompetents and sexual predators, serve as our commander-in-chief. Woodrow Wilson, Warren G. Harding, FDR, LBJ, Richard Nixon, Jimmy Carter, Bill Clinton and Barack Obama, have all besmirched the office once held by George Washington. But Hillary Clinton is very likely the greediest, most corrupt, most odious, individual who has ever sought the office, and, heaven help us, will very likely be elected.
We have had awful presidents in the past, but nothing that compares with what Barack Obama has managed to do to us over the past eight years. Just thinking about some of his misdeeds, things like Cash for Clunkers; Operation Fast & Furious; Solyndra and other costly green energy scams; the pullout from Iraq and the predictable rise of ISIS; lies about Benghazi and the defeat of al Qaeda; the slowest economic recovery since the 1930s; pushing the reset button with Russia after promising to be even more flexible after the 2012 election; shredding the Constitution and legislating with his pen and his phone; the flouting of federal immigration laws; appointing the likes of Elena Kagan and Sonia Sotomayor to the Supreme Court; siding with the scummy likes of Black Lives Matter and against the police; rolling out the red carpet for thousands of Muslims certain to include any number of jihadists intent on killing Americans; and defunding the military; is like taking a leisurely stroll through a chamber of horrors.
