Reuven — Since you’re growing habaneros, I thought you might find the following interesting:

PEPPER HEAT GUIDE

While I still have many things on my “to-do” list, I feel like I have to acknowledge the great loss of President Reagan.  I could wax eloquently about what an incredible man he was and what a true legacy he left for our country — a legacy of hope and courage and belief in the greatness of our country.  There are so many others who have and will do a better job than I could.

Let me just say that, while I never had the privilege of meeting him, through the example he set and the life he lived, I have the utmost respect and love for him.  These last years have been so difficult for him and for his family, and I am glad his suffering is over — but I can’t help but be sad that he is gone.  I think one of the most tragic things about his having this particular illness is that in his last years he had no recollection of the mighty accomplishments of his tenure in public service.  That aside, he was blessed with the love of a good woman who epitomizes the definition of loyalty and devotion.

God bless you, Ronald Reagan, and we’ll see you in the most shining city of them all one day!

Brief nod to the blog today.  I’ve got so much work to catch up on.  We’ve been away on and off all week helping take care of my mom-in-law.  She had to have surgery last Tuesday, but I’m happy to report that she is back home and getting around quite well.  It’s no small surgery when it involves clamping the carotid artery to do a bypass procedure!  Yesterday she got up, got dressed and was getting around the house really well.  We have to keep warning her not to over-do.  But she’s being a good patient overall.

I have to order a part for my husband’s riding mower — it conked out when he’d only done half the yard.  He was not happy.    He’s a little obsessive-compulsive about certain things in his life, like the yard and the garden.  Which is good, because our yard always looks so nice, and we always have nice veggies in season.

Then I have to take care of some window blind/shutter business.  And THEN I have to go to the grocery store because the cabinets are EMPTY!  We’ve been so busy going between the hospital and my mom-in-law’s home that I’ve not had a chance to restock our provisions! 

I’d better run for now.

From “The Federalist”:

          President Bush has launched a series of weekly addresses rallying support for our ongoing War with Jihadistan — and not a minute too soon. Since its inception, The Federalist has noted that the “War on Terror” was a misnomer — as it implies clearly defined fronts and a conflict that would end with a decisive “win.” Furthermore, as we have noted, this conflict is more akin to the Cold War — a protracted campaign. Indeed, a much better name for this conflict would be the “Global Campaign Against Terror.”

          To that end, President Bush told the graduating class of the Air Force Academy that, indeed, this conflict could take decades to “win.” “We are now about three years into the war against terrorism,” he said. “This is no time for impatience and self-defeating pessimism. These times demand the kind of courage and confidence that Americans have shown before.”

          The Federalist has also argued consistently that we must keep the warfront on Jihadi turf in places like Iraq and Afghanistan — lest they bring it back to ours. The President confirmed that strategic policy, noting, “Some say that by fighting the terrorists abroad since September the 11th, we only stir up a hornets’ nest. But the terrorists who struck that day were stirred up already. If America were not fighting terrorists in Iraq and Afghanistan and elsewhere, what would these thousands of killers do — suddenly begin leading productive lives of service and charity? … We are dealing here with killers who have made the death of Americans the calling of their lives. And America has made a decision about these terrorists: Instead of waiting for them to strike again in our midst, we will take this fight to the enemy.”

This is an interesting read from “The Federalist”:

          On the subject of “clashing political visions,” a group of 220 veterans who served with Massachusetts Senator John Kerry in a swiftboat unit have demanded that he quit using unauthorized photos of them in his campaign. Veteran William Shumadine, who is in one photo, said, “His use of a photograph with his 19 comrades with knowledge that 11 of them condemn him and six who [are deceased] or do not want to be involved is a complete misrepresentation to the public and a total fraud.”

          This comes on the heels of comments from his superiors about his less-than-dignified behavior during the war. Admiral Roy Hoffman said, “[Kerry] arrived in country with a strong anti-Vietnam War bias and a self-serving determination to build a foundation for his political future. He was aggressive, but vain and prone to impulsive judgment, often with disregard to specific tactical assignments. He was a loose cannon.” Thomas Wright, a swiftboat officer who served with Kerry, recalled, “I had a lot of trouble getting him to follow orders… Kerry seemed to believe there were no rules in a free-fire zone, and you were supposed to kill anyone.” Kerry was curiously known in radio communication by the self-chosen moniker “Boston Strangler.”

          In regards to Kerry’s much-ballyhooed three Purple Hearts, Wright said, “No one wanted a Purple Heart because it meant we had made a mistake. We made sure our crews were recognized, but no one took pride in a Purple Heart.” Then he added, “When he got his third Purple Heart, three of us told him to leave. We knew how the system worked and we didn’t want him in Coastal Division 11.”

          Finally, John O’Neill, the man who took over Kerry’s swift boat upon his early departure, said in a Wall Street Journal editorial, “Today, America is engaged in a new war, against the militant Islamic terrorists who attacked us on our own soil. Reasonable people may differ about how best to proceed, but I’m sure of one thing — John Kerry is the wrong man to put in charge.”

And one other occurence you probably won’t hear about on the evening news:

          Speaking of Francophiles, we relate the story of a noteworthy encounter between self-avowed Francophile John “French” Kerry and Ted Sampley, a decorated former Green Beret who served two full tours in Vietnam — as distinguished from Kerry’s four months in country. Mr. Sampley spotted Kerry, protected by his Secret Service detail, at a Memorial Day photo shoot at the Vietnam Memorial. Sampley approached Kerry, extended his hand and said, “Senator…I am here to escort you away from the Wall because you do not belong here.” Of course, a Secret Service agent warned Sampley to back away and he obliged, but as he did, he said, “[John] Kerry does not belong at the Wall because he betrayed the brave soldiers who fought in Vietnam.” To which a decidedly less-than presidential Kerry — in front of a group of schoolchildren and other visitors — responded to Sampley with a less-than-flattering hand gesture. For some reason, the netwonk talkingheads missed that story.

I started to respond to a comment on my previous post in the comments section, but then I decided to go ahead and include it in my regular post.  So, Reuven, here goes:

I note from your blog that you are an artist, and so your focus when reading my post was on the art and the gallery owner. 

The point of my post was the ridiculous phrase “hate crime.”  The guy punched a woman in the nose.  It was wrong.  He should be prosecuted for assault.

However, people (like the artist and the art gallery owner) who choose to do things that provoke strong emotion shouldn’t be surprised when less than enjoyable consequences result.

You ask if I’ve ever been to a modern art gallery — kind of a snide way of insinuating that I must be uneducated in artistic matters.  Actually, I’ve been to numerous museums from the National Gallery of Art, the Renwick, and the Corcoran in Washington, D.C., to the Museum of Fine Arts, the Contemporary Arts Museum, the Menil Collection, and the Rothko Chapel in Houston, Texas.  I’ve seen art that moved me to tears, filled my heart with joy, and even made me want to punch someone in the face. 

I’ve also been to museums of another kind — museums that document history and the lives that have gone on before us.  Documentation of the influence others’ lives have had on the lives we live today.  The lives we live today will influence those that come behind us.  That’s why life and the art it imitates are so important — each and every action we choose has resounding repercussions across the ages.  Part of the reason I find some of today’s art not only controversial, but also to some degree irresponsible, is because it does nothing to encourage people to strive to be better people.  It degrades, demoralizes, and encourages actions of a baser nature. 

I’ve seen art that looked like it was truly inspired by God and art that looked like a two year old spilled a bucket of paint on a canvas — all hanging on the same walls in the same museum. 

I don’t have a problem with controversial art — but I also don’t think people should be surprised when it provokes a multitude of emotions and responses, some less than desirable.

I also think that some “art” is art only for the sake of the funding received — basically someone with a political agenda uses the label “art” to get their NEA grant funded and then creates something that is meant to provoke and agitate to bring their particular issue to the table.  I don’t have a problem with their issue coming to the table.  But if I don’t agree with their issue, I do have a problem with funding it with my hard-earned and paid tax dollars.

I noticed from your blog that you’re pretty young — 17, I think.  Maybe when you’ve lived a few more years and seen a few more things you’ll understand what I’m saying.  And then again, maybe not.  Until then, enjoy making your zombie movies and hanging out with your friends. 

So I watched the evening news (an unusual event, since the evening news is so NOT balanced), and saw where an art gallery owner in San Francisco (I believe?) displayed “art” of U.S. soldiers “abusing” Iraquis.  Apparently some guy punched her in the face because he found it offensive and now they are debating on whether to prosecute it as a “hate” crime.

First let me emphasize, the guy should not have punched her in the face.  I think it is obscene that she would display “art” based on the actions of a few when so many serve with honor, but she still didn’t deserve to be punched in the face (or anywhere else, for that matter).

What I would like to address is this ridiculous notion regarding “hate” crimes.  Have you ever heard of a “love” crime?  Isn’t the phrase “hate” crime just slightly, everso slightly redundant?  Why do we feel the need to categorize crime, when crime, whatever its nature, is wrong?

I suppose thieves commit “greed crime.”  Maybe thieves who steal from people they don’t love commit a “hatefully greedy crime.”  People who lie commit “dishonesty crime.”  And so on and so forth.

I just wish we could get back to the basics where those who live moral lives are rewarded with peaceful lives and those who break the plain ole’ law reap the consequences. 

Forgive me for posting an entire column here, but I agree whole-heartedly with what Diana West had to say regarding the 9/11 commission and feel it’s important to share:

Don’t blame the heroes — Diana West 
May 24, 2004

Towers would fall, he underscored the terrible truth, often forgotten, that we now live in the Age of the Unthinkable. Seared into our consciousness is that the Twin Towers could and did fall — as could the Empire State Building, the U.S. Capitol and the Superdome. Our children know, as we never before imagined, that passenger planes may become guided missiles, and skyscrapers may turn into scorched rubble. Islamic jihad has indeed expanded our consciousness.

But if we look back on the blinkered bliss that ended with the catastrophic triumph of a despicable Islamic conspiracy, we also see the shining wellspring of courage and sacrifice the day revealed. It is painful to behold, but it has steadied and strengthened a reeling nation. What could be worse, two and a half years later, than to watch it sullied by a poisonous government commission?

There is a strange pathology in the 9/11 Commission that goes beyond the Bush-bashing grandstanding of the old days (remember Richard Clarke?), back when the president of the USAG (United States of Abu Ghraib) was taking it on the chin for not having enacted serious measures, pre-9/11, to stop Islamic terrorists — such as putting women’s underwear on the heads of racially profiled Muslim men at airport check-ins, I suppose. In the commission’s findings, there now emerges a weird sense that what happened on 9/11 — when out of the most heavenly azure sky, Al Qaeda simultaneously launched four air attacks on American cities — was something the Big Apple should have planned and drilled for to the point of preventing all casualties. Indeed, according to commission thinking, it is almost as if New York’s response to the Al Qaeda attacks created all of the mayhem in the first place.

Built into this twisted point of view is the equally bizarre notion that, given enough taxpayer-funded analysis, the federal commission will discover just what caused 3,000 Americans to lose their lives on 9/11 — and, in so doing, presumably make New York City safe for terrorism. Forget about a surprise attack launched in broad daylight by soldiers of an extremist Muslim army hidden from detection by our own politically correct blinders. Were New York’s Finest at fault? Were New York’s Bravest sloughing off? Could Mayor Giuliani have done more?

The most egregious example of commission scapegoating concerns the stalwart service on 9/11 of Deputy Assistant Chief Joseph W. Pfeifer. Chief Pfeifer arrived at the north tower six minutes after seeing the first jet strike, helping to bring order to the fearful chaos in the lobby and direct rescue units to the upper floors. He also sent his only brother, Fire Lt. Kevin Pfeifer, up the stairs. “We spent a couple of seconds looking at each other,” Chief Pfeifer told The New York Times. “He didn’t say anything. It was just a look.” Lt. Pfeifer was among the 343 members of the NYFD who died in the inferno.

Now, two and half years later, Chief Pfeifer is being raked over 9/11’s coals for a command decision he made to switch radio channels from a stronger signal the chief says wasn’t working that morning, to a weaker, functioning alternate, thereby losing the ability to communicate with all units, and thereby failing to learn immediately when the south tower collapsed. The commission finding is that an unnamed chief — Chief Pfeifer — was mistaken: The better, stronger radio channel was indeed working. The chief robustly disagrees. He also points out that even with the weaker radio signal, he was able to direct the evacuation of the north tower for a hellish hour-plus until it, too, collapsed, saving the lives of countless civilians and firemen.

Why should this man be called on to sweat over and defend his undeniably valiant service on 9/11? Is Chief Pfeifer — a dutiful, courageous fireman who, following his best instincts, helped saved thousands of Americans on 9/11 — to blame for even one death? Two deaths? One hundred deaths? The implications of the commission’s findings — that America’s heroes share blame for the carnage — are outrageous.

When commissioner Bob Kerrey asked WTC director Alan Reiss whether he was “angry” (is this “Oprah”?) the FBI didn’t reveal more about Al Qaeda before 9/11, Reiss, according to the New York Post, “shot back” he was angry at “19 people in an airplane,” not the FBI.

Nineteen men in an airplane is right. Of course, if the “chatter” before 9/11 had been listened to, these men would have been racially profiled right off their flights. That’s the only logical conclusion of any serious inquiry into how 9/11 might have been prevented — one the 9/11 Commission will never get to.

©2004 Newspaper Enterprise Assn.

Did I tell you I joined a Bunco group?  Now, I’ve only played Bunco one other time and it was many years ago, but I vaguely remembered enjoying myself.  So when Lisa invited me to join the new group her friend, Andrea, was starting, I said yes.

Our first game night was Thursday night.  Andrea has the group set up where we visit and eat the first hour and then play Bunco the second hour.  There are twelve gals total, three tables of four each.  Each gal hosts Bunco Night once a year, so it’s really easy on the whole group as far as hostessing responsibilities go.

After a yummy meal, Andrea went over the game rules (apparently there are many variations of the game — in this particular one, we only roll for sixes and we use a point clock to keep score).  We started playing, and oh, my!  Did it get loud in that house!  We were hollering and laughing — I rolled the first Bunco (three sixes) of the evening, but one of my table mates grabbed the dice before I could and so I lost the Bunco.  The next time I rolled a Bunco, I practically dove across the table to grab the dice before they could be stolen from me!  We all had a good laugh when someone said, “Bunco is NOT a contact sport!” 

When the hour was up, Andrea tallied up who had the most Bunco’s, the most wins, the second most of each, the least, etc., and then passed out prizes.  It was a lot of fun!  The prizes all had a patriotic theme because of Memorial Day in May, and Lisa doesn’t decorate for Memorial Day or 4th of July, so she gave me her little decorative figure.  It took some of the sting out of not winning (10 out of 12 people get a prize, and I was one of the two who didn’t!)  On top of that, we drew names to see who would host for each month and I got June!  Can you believe it?  No prize, and I get to host the next one!  Seriously, I think it’s funny and the real prize was just getting out and having some fun with some new friends.

I’m trying to think up a cute theme between now and the third Thursday in June.  Beach Party?  Luau?  Pink Flamingos?  Hmmmmm . . . .

If anyone reads this and has any ideas, please feel free to share . . .

Today’s been an average Saturday, as Saturdays go.  Jami went to spend the night with her grandma (AJ’s mom), so we stayed up late watching “Braveheart” for the umpteenth time.  Neither one of us gets tired of seeing tha tmovie.  I don’t cry quite so hard anymore, but I still get weepy-eyed. 

Because we stayed up so late, and then like a goofball, I read for another hour or so, I slept LATE this morning.  Late, as in noonish!  Then I read some more, because I thought Jami wasn’t coming home until tomorrow.  Surprise!  She decided she wanted to come on home (she doesn’t care for going to church with her grandparents — likes our church better) and my mother-in-law decided to come with her, spend the night, and go to church with us in the morning.

So of course, I had to get my rear in gear and clean house, change sheets, do laundry.  I’m exhausted.  Oh, well.  They’re here!