The American Spectator

NOW, THIS IS MUCH BETTER. Alex and I are on Virgin America to L.A. from Dulles. The cabin is beautiful. The flight attendants are treating us like customers instead of inconveniences. My greeter, who helps with my bags, recently lost his son to criminals. He was distracted and forgot my computer at security. The fabulous people at Virgin America went a long way to get it back for me. Miracle. This would not happen at most airlines.

The food is great. There is a lovely young woman passenger named Sarah who came by and spoke to me about the problems of human trafficking. This is a serious problem in many parts of the world and the woman in question gave me a book about it. The book is extremely disturbing. It is especially disturbing about sexual slavery in the Third World. The tales it tells of Japanese sex slavery during World War II are horrific.

Despite that disturbance, the flight was great. My Julie Goodgirl was waiting for me at home, and I was happy. As always, I was completely exhausted. But the sky was clear, and the air was warm, so Alex sat outside and smoked as I swam and threw the tennis ball for Julie Goodgirl. She caught it, ran around the pool with it, dropped it near where I swam. I threw it again and so it went. The clouds were few, but what clouds there were glowed from the lights of L.A. and illuminated the palm trees like a backlight.

Can this be real?

Oh, happy day.

Wednesday

NOW, THIS IS SOMETHING. Wifey and I are at a theater in Hollywood watching a premiere of a movie made by my old marching companion from Expelled, the fine John Sullivan, and a serious conservative thinker, Dinesh D’Souza. The movie is called 2016: Obama’s America.

The basic point of the movie is that Mr. Obama picked up his father’s anti-British, anti-American views as a way of bonding with this father, whom he met only for about an hour, long into his life. The father was apparently a true nutcase, who, if I understand this movie right, had about four wives simultaneously, none of whom knew about the others. He was also a mad drunk and a terrible driver— which cost him his life.

The movie makes a connection between Mr. Obama’s father’s miserable life and Barack Obama’s resentments and agenda.

It is a fascinating argument and beautifully put forth. The cinematography is spectacular and Dinesh is a fine interviewer. The interview with Mr. Obama’s half-brother—the spitting image of our president, only living in a microscopic tinroofed shanty in Africa instead of the White House—is genuinely riveting. The man looks EXACTLY LIKE OUR PRESIDENT, only he’s living in a slum in Nairobi. By the way, the man is intelligent and well spoken.

There is much else in the movie. The most chilling part is about Mr. Barack Obama’s wish to disarm the USA. I think it’s a bit misleading, because that plan for unilateral nuclear disarmament is supported by a number of deeply confused Republican former secretaries of state as well. Still, it’s terrifying.

Anyway, it is a great movie and I gave it a long standing ovation afterward.

Then, over to Yoshi for sushi, and then home to swim and watch my usual documentaries about World War II.

Saturday

UP TO SEATTLE BY VIRGIN AMERICA to transfer to Horizon Air to Sandpoint, Idaho. Virgin America was great, as always. We had an incident with a super rude gate agent named Becca at Horizon in Seattle who was just determined to have a fight with us over our luggage. Luckily, someone higher up calmed her down. But, again, why have someone who wants to fight as your point of contact with the public?

In Sandpoint, we rendezvoused with our pals Mike and Nancy Visser, their beautiful daughters, Megan and Payton, and their handsome sons, Dave and Tanner. I met them last summer and was totally taken with their friendliness and the kids’ amazing good manners. Megan, at 15, is probably the most polite young person I have ever met and a conversationalist in a class by herself. She actually asked me to tell her about my summer jobs, bringing back many memories of the Washington Post. The Vissers are from Calgary. I stayed in touch with them, and now they are staying at one of our condos. (I cannot afford all of this real estate much longer, either financially or in terms of strength.)

We had a fine dinner with them at Trinity, watched the lake darken, and then, back to my bedroom to watch the latest documentary I have about Stalingrad. All just terrifying. But all is well in my room with Mr. Buffett’s trains roaring by. Peace in Idaho. Perfect. Make sure you watch 2016: Obama’s America. Important viewing. Vital viewing.