Mission accomplished, Barack? Hill sniffs blood in WV.

They all know that something is about to happen. Super Delegates still sit on their hands

Feinstein knows something's up. Understanding the stakes, the Senator had coffee with the Hillster to determine if there's an October surprise, which she prays to God there is come May or June because she knows darn well Obama hasn't got a prayer in November and she doesn't want to do this the hard way.

God knows Dianne would rather be home with her puppies up listening to Chris Matthews get all happy and excited about patriotic liberals like JFK and guys like that. How she hates this dissension. All she wants to do sit down and be still for a while. These people. Where is Hillary, anyway?

The drumbeat against Obama's inevitability will begin soon. Small things. Everyone will run for cover then when the surprise hits, everyone will say, "Gee, who knew?"

I love politics. They're so real.

Why should Hillary Clinton drop out?
But the rank and file Dems who support Obama, the ones who don't know any better and aren't in the loop want Hillary to quit. There are still five or six states left and two others that won't be counted! If I were a Florida or Michigan Democrat I believe I'd find a way to sue.

Isn't this just typical of Democrats? They want her to leave the fight before it's even over. Sound familiar? Put their donkey logo next to the word "surrender" in the dictionary. Eee aww.

Like if they don't get their man in right now, they'll miss their chance. Why don't they let this race play out?

What has driven this (ahem) elephant-in-the-room mentality? I've watched most networks, including the public ones and they all seem to shy away from race and whisper it as if it's a dirty word...until just lately. It's really neurotic. For such open and liberal minded folks, they sure are reticent and shy, especially the usual suspects at MSNBC. CNN has been right out there, however. Fox is stepping up a bit, little by little.

The R word
If Obama is the person he claims to be this is an ideal time to talk openly about race--not after he's in the White House, after he's said for nearly two years he's never even given reparations and special empowerment to blacks a thought, or he never saw Reverend Wright in his life and Bill Ayres is a Chicago Bulls basketball player, isn't he, and then pull some big switcheroo with a Democratic controlled congress? Quick and dirty, but it would take care of a lot of the problems the Democrats think they have.

Bring up the truth about America and slavery again. That's what your new politics should be about. Why do just half truths? Let's get into the whole, dirty business. How can we get past something if we don't talk about it? Don't they tell us we have to recognize our problems to fix them?

Well, I don't see a whole lot of white guys running around patting black guys on the back saying, "God, I'm just real sorry what my kin did to you back 150 years ago..." or "...that Jim Crow thing sucked...what can I do as a white man to help you through it?"

Nor do I see black guys responding to the white guy by saying "Man. You know, you white folks sure were wrong, but sh+t happens. Hey, Man. I forgive ya."

That's the race talk we could be having, I suppose, backed up with lots of money.

The real R word? Reality.
Obama cannot win the national election. He is unelectable. Why? Because no one knows who he is. It's not like he's Condi Rice, Vernon Jordan, Colin Powell. What America will find out by November is he's a two-bit, Richard M. Daley Chicago Machine-spawned hack run by a bunch of hard ass pols. Once we do get to know this "organizer' (I've never known anything good that comes out of the word "organizer"), we'll see how far left this guy really is.

America is not a socialist country--we don't swing left; we swing center. Everyone is kidding everyone else because of the race issue. Perhaps it's the Bradley Effect compounded with other issues that we're not familiar with yet. This is all new.

Of course, it needn't to have been this way if we all just acted like Americans instead of hypenated people.

That was last week
Today is election day in West Virginia. The Obama people have had their week in the hard working white communities of the coal producing hoots and hollers of the state that gave us Senator Robert Byrd, the ex-KKK member, the so called "Conscience of the Senate."

A reported response to phone polling was "Hang the darkey from the closest tree," when asked what the caller thought of Senator Obama. Numerous such answers were said to trouble the out-of-town professionals who were part of the Obama campaign, according to a NY Times article this morning (find it on Drudge).

I feel compelled to add, however, that these hard working white West Virginian Democrats have shown tremendous social growth when a Hokey can now bring himself to refer to his African-American neighbor in the more politically correct form of "darkey."

This election is the result of a long, long laboratory experiment gone bad.
I've said and have written that the Democrats are reaping what they've sown for the past forty or fifty years in their insistence upon grouping and regrouping and subdividing of human beings in every aspect of life. Now they have one faction against a faction, sub against sub, who can no longer even communicate with basic human language: words that are simple and used in context like white, black, hard working. It's seems awfully hard to me.

Democrats. Look at yourselves. You can't even talk to each other without fear of offending one another. That's not real. And that's what you've always said you wanted. Your kids must be confused.

Thanks for the read.

Chris Matthews and his Sunday morning pals

(I feel guilty. I should be in church.)

Joe Klein, the brilliant writer with Time Magazine; Cynthia Tucker, editorial page editor of The Atlanta Journal Constitution; and Patrick Healy of The NY Times. They were all there. It was a Libs compadre moment. I was probably one of among ten or so to watch it. Here's a summary what they had to say.

"That Clinton woman is taking the presidency away from the black man and she is really a bad person to do it."

Those darn Dems. They just kill me. Like there's something wrong with talking about her opposition's electability.

What's on next?

All politics all morning
Okay. I know NBC's slant. Let's get another take. What do these Dems really want? And most importantly to this Republican, can they get it?

Of course, what I think they really want is nothing more than a total and complete change in our nation's psychology and approach to American life and politics. In other words politics--what we civilized people use to keep from killing each other--is bad and we need to change how we practice them.

I've been listening more than usual to a bunch of rich 40-year olds during this election season. They're the ones who seem to have the Democratic party by the you-know-whats these days--the ones who claim they can and must do politics their way lest the entire world fall into an abyss because of policies of this barbarian, George W. Bush and his predecessors, all of whom are bad inherently.

The "New School" people--the real radicals, the big money--are convinced (as is every generation) if they can just grab hold of the reins of power this time they can somehow use their own inimitable wisdom and superior intelligence and accompanying technology which those who have gone before them did not somehow possess because they, themselves are so very special this time. This time is different. This time. We all say that, by the way. This time.

Let's look at ABC.

Local Yokels
I tuned in just in time to watch a local city councilman, Democrat Richard Alarcon as he was insisting upon a surtax on the 270,000 millionaires in Los Angeles who live in homes over 5000 square feet. "They'll never miss it." That's the kind of change they believed in.

Next up came one of the Latino super delegates for the Dems, about 35 or 40, who announced he regards the use of "negative ads" as one of his guidelines for choosing the nominee. No, seriously. This is a man who is participating in grown-up American politics, no doubt his first time. His other criterion was "electability." I thought it was noteworthy that this imbecile listed it as second on his list and mentioned Mrs. Clinton as having "...stuck her toe into the negative ad category." He read that somewhere and decided to use it--the "toe" part.

I resisted the urge to commit Hari Kari out of frustration that people could actually be so idiotic, that critical thinking abilities could have not been fully developed in this individual, then I realized he was instructed in Los Angeles schools. I've thought of taking up a hobby which doesn't involve handling sharp things.

Next popped up another one of the Dem super delegates who is Nancy Pelosi's forty-year old or so daughter, a rather sandpapery person who evidently was rubbed the wrong way again when asked if her mother and Mrs. Clinton were still friends. Her response, "What a silly question," to a seasoned journalist took her appearance from important to twit in just four little words. Shrugging off a legit question may have seemed kewl to her Marin County buds, but it is simply impatient and stupid to non-California voters. Even Hillary Clinton learned that such a tin ear can get you tossed out on it if you're not careful, almost too late.

During these commercials, I have to include in my Sunday morning's assessment the opinions of the usual suspects, bad pennies and some retreads whom I heard over the week. They must keep turning up because we're living longer, we had no draft and we had great medical care and medicine in the last generation. These overgrown, professional students always wanted revolution and I guess they've settled for their organic one. Slow, ain't it, Dudes? Well, when you're comfortable in places like Santa Monica, the oppressor ain't so bad, especially when you make the kind of money most of them pull down. Shaking things up has been very good to them.

What's on CBS? Good. More Dems.

Between their ears
Rebels are boring as hell because they all look alike, act alike and sound alike. I decided to switch the channel just in time for a new guest on another local LA political Sunday program that no one watches.

Did you know that there are black people and women among the Dems who want to forge some sort of a union? That's a good thing, I guess; however, they're almost beside themselves because they see the Barack-Hillary thing as a competition. I just didn't know there was that big of a schism. Who knew?

That's what Lizabeth Gant-Britton, Ph.D from UCLA said. Dr. Gant-Britton, a beautiful, about 45-year old tiny, blond, light skinned African-American who co-authored a few books about fascinating black women, one of whom was Frederick Douglas's wife, was most candid about her fears that the Dems will blow this whole thing. It was apparent that she had a real investment in this election as she patiently explained this historic opportunity for women and blacks. It seems as if the parties don't trust one other. I'm not sure what Dr. Gant-Britton will do because she's black, white, a woman and has two names. She's really in a bind.

Redux: Moyers and Wright on PBS
I had to watch that again. And again. I had other choices as Rev. Wright had been speaking nonstop to many groups the whole weekend. Who could miss him or Senator Obama?

It was Rev. Wright's appearances that reminded me about something else that's happening in this election. Suddenly, it's okay to be a Christian--if you're a Democrat--and the right kind of Christian, preferably black.

I don't recall ever seeing so many campaign speeches made in so many churches, namely Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton of the Democratic Party who have campaigned in church after church after church. Democrats keep a straight face and dare to talk any Christian about separation of church and state in our courts and in our schools? Their hypocrisy as they speak of state business behind pulpits is in direct conflict with the rest of what they say on Monday and is the biggest civic joke of the century which no one seems to get but me. Or I've missed the discussion.

Get me my epee, quick.

What's a dreary relativist to do?
There was very little subtlety as the Sunday am Dems spoke openly, resigned and wistfully of the immediacy of what's ahead because of what they've perceived as their party's odd locus--black man and white woman, religious folks and secular progressives, rich moguls and poor streets folk. How could god, if there is one, grace our beloved party with this embarrassment of riches? We want it both ways. We don't want to take a stand, to make a choice.

In the Democrats' world which values non competition, non judgment and complete separation of church and state, ideals they've grown up with their entire lives which is demonstrated by their own vague gray scale of life, their internal ambiguity and personal angst must be killing them as they are presented with these huge contrasts in real life. Watch how they choose. It will be dirty, desperate and ungodly as hell. Let me add here there ain't nothin democratic about any of it.

I hope there's enough Xanax to go around should things not work out--especially in Obama's favor. God knows I'm going to need it just to get through the fall out.

Or maybe I'll just go to church next Sunday and let those other nine viewers watch Matthews.

Thanks for the read.

Working the Sunday New York Times crossword in pen

John Robert Layman 1929-2008

My big brother died two weeks ago today in St. Paul, Minnesota. He leaves his two beautiful daughters: Ann Elizabeth and her husband, Dennis Scott and Marian Ruth and her husband, Matthew Kirby. Some of you may recall that his only son, John Robert, Jr., was killed in a horrible accident last October.

John is survived by a talented and gifted grandchild, Daniel Scott, a freshman at Northeastern University in Boston and another talented and beautiful granddaughter, Stephanie Scott, who is still in high school in St. Paul. My treasured former sister-in-law and mother of his children, Marilyn Stockton Layman, lives in Kansas City.

He also leaves his little beloved sister Shirley Anne, his little brother, Curtis Frederick and me, Andrea Margot. I am sixteen years younger than John and the baby of this wonderful family.

A baby sister's memories
There are many. One was when we greeted John at Kansas City's Union Station just returning home from his duty in Korea when I was six. It was cold and snowing. Packed like slices of pickles in a jar were Marilyn, John and my eleven-year old bro, Curt, in the backseat of the 1952 sedan; Mother, me and Daddy in the front--you could do that in the old days--we were all so excited to have him home safe from war.

Later in the evening I listened to their grown up stories, asked Daddy what the "call of nature was" when John mentioned a bullet whizzing by his ear, getting to stay up until my mother had to drop kick me into the bed. I'll never, ever forget how relieved Dad was to have John home and how Mother, God bless her, was plenty relieved too.

John was brilliant and rather a puzzle. He loved classical music. He had a fabulous gift of woodworking, something he fell heir to from his great grandfather and name sake Robert Curtis Love. Like him, John was very gentle and held a sad acceptance of life. Yet his tremendous humor offered me a respite that was reassuring. He didn't promise anything like a heaven or something like a fairy god mother, but was more interested in telling the truth in what lay ahead. It was as if he trusted that certainly I was strong enough to handle it. Sure enough, he was right.

I'm not really sure of his beliefs spiritually as he simply wasn't the kind of guy to discuss such things with his kid sister, maybe with a pal, but not with me. He was a fatalist in that he saw usually what was coming, said it, cautioned you not to be surprised, then helped you get over it. This knowledge is not unusual in men of John's age and geography.

Maybe this basically Midwestern trait is passed down as a survival skill from those ancestors who came across the Cumberland frontier leaving the comforts of Virginia, New York, Pennsylvania, i.e., already knowing you'd better figure out what's ahead and not cry over the inevitable spilled milk.

His attitude of life, and my own, which I see more clearly now that have the perspective of living in such a limp place like California, must have come about from being the child of my massive father, as well as from the similarly proprioceptive strength of that parent's immense will power and sense of honor. Add to such a foundation the fight, spirit, faith, pride (oh my God, her pride) and the guidance of an equally strong-willed, highly intelligent and occasionally hysterical and neurotic mother and you've formed a pretty complex personality. That's not all bad, by the way, contrary to popular psychological opinion. Not that John didn't have his moments, as we all do. He indeed did.

It seems to me though John did life pretty much without complaint and carried on always with a sense of humor. I think he got that from Mother, who claimed she was never bored as long as there was one book left in the world to read. John felt the same, I think.

"Sister," he'd say as he turned "Rite of Spring" over on the turntable he had built by hand, "when you're depressed, take a walk down to Katz," the best drugstore in KC. Then he'd lean down to pick out a perfectly straight--by eye-- two-by-four stick of mahogany, light another Lucky Strike, switch on his finger-threatening lathe and show me how to make a chair leg.

After he did his part for Korea (maybe he never thought he had a choice, however unlikely, although the beginnings of dodging the draft was part of the chatter in his crowd), John married beautiful Marilyn, studied for premed at University of Kansas, fathered my nieces and nephew, then after a time on his way up at Ford Motor Company in KC, he was offered early retirement in the 70s, to which he responded, "Gosh, I've never had so much dough in my life!"

Talk about la dolce vita, John Robert took the money, the benefits and never looked back, not that he needed it. He raised his family, did what he needed to do. Everything John touched was financially a good thing. The guy liked to work, so when he later moved to Louisiana, naturally he formed a couple of hands-on businesses. As he got older and was in failing health, he moved to St. Paul to be near Ann, his daughter.

I must mention that John and I were the Kansas City Chief's original fans back in Nineteen-Ought-Whenever. I will won't forget our times at Arrowhead Stadium. Come to think of it, John was an excellent athlete in his day--just one more thing he was good at. I'm sure John was a source of pride for my dad, who was an high school athletic coach for fifteen years before he went into industry.

My sis and I saw John three years ago in St. Paul. We toured the St. Paul Cathedral, walked through that capitol city with him as if he had been recently hired as its official tourist guide (it is truly a lovely, old town). Ann told me he had begun walking daily to the St. Paul Library and had a regular route of buddies to see. John never met a stranger, as they say.

John's memorial was last Saturday in St. Paul. It was hard to say goodbye, especially as "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring", and the rest of J.S. Bach, John's favorites, played around and through us.

John's mind, although not as memory-sharp as it was because of his sickness, was never far from the NY Times crossword puzzle, especially Sunday's. "Sissy," he'd say to me, "you're not really a pro until you work the Time's crossword in pen, with no cross outs, like me." Then he'd laugh that sweet laugh.

John worked his life in pen--with no cross outs.

Good bye, John. I love you.