Remember the record snows of last winter? Our Diarist does.
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I was well and truly snowed in. Even Russ could not come over. I
just lolled about in my pajamas, slept, watched an amazingly
interesting C-Span show about “stealth reconstruction” in the South
in the '60s and '70s, and slept and read my book about Gone with
the Wind, and slept more.
This is the life. I did not see one car on the Rock Creek Parkway all day, a first. (I just realized how many roads in the D.C. area are called “Parkway”…hmmm. I wonder why.)
I don’t think I will criticize anyone ever again. I will just be calm and happy and grateful and wish everyone well.
I am sure there will be bad things ahead. In fact, it’s guaranteed. But I am going to try to pray even for those who harm me. I will try. I may not succeed, but I will try. I am even going to pray for Mr. Obama, for God to give him wisdom and peace of mind. And I mean it.
It is a couple of weeks later now. I am in Washington, D.C. It has been an exhausting day of travel. Yesterday I flew to Orlando, went to bed very late, and got up very early to give a speech. Then I went immediately to the airport and waited around a long time for a flight to D.C. I slept the whole way.
When I got off the plane, my trusty driver, Bob Noah, was waiting for me. As always, he had a bag of freshly popped microwave popcorn for me. We went by the glorious gray Potomac to the Memorial Bridge, then over it to the Watergate. Magnificent. The view over the river is magnificent. I am so tired, though. But what must it be like for men in combat, women in combat, exhausted, dirty, hungry, hurting — and they do it for us. They do it for our sorry civilian butts. They go through more in an hour than I do in my whole life. God bless them a million times over. God bless them for all eternity. We owe them EVERYTHING.
I can see the resting place for some of them, Arlington National Cemetery, from near my apartment. They died so I can sleep in peace. Thank you, God, for such heroes and for their families. Thank you.
A man of faith in a godless age is hitting Americans where it hurts.
Mr. and Mrs. American Spectator Reader, let P.J. O’Rourke talk sense to your kids.
In Britain, defending your property can get you life.
The debacle of this president’s administration is both a cause and a symptom of the decline of American values. Unless Congress impeaches him, that decline will go on unchecked. An eminent jurist surveys the damage and assesses the chances for the recovery of our culture.
It won’t take long for conservatives to scratch this presidential wannabe off their 2008 scorecard.
The American Christmas, like the songs that celebrate it, makes room for everybody under the rainbow. Is that why so many people seem to be hostile to it?
Was the President done in by the economy, or by the politics of the economy?