Richard Daybell – Novels, stories and short humor
Last night’s movie wasn’t actually a movie; it was a retrospective on the career of the legendary Patsy Cline. It was only an hour long but it had me falling to pieces over original clips of her singing Walkin’ After Midnight, San Antonio Rose, Lovesick Blues, Crazy and oh the list goes on.
Folks who have heard me express certain opinions about country music in the past may wonder at my appreciation of Patsy Cline. I could say she transcends the country-western genre or some other such twaddle. Or not. I see a difference between country-western which I still mostly don’t like and cowboy music which I do. (In reality, it may be that if I like it I call it cowboy music, but I have a right to my little delusions).
And so do the Republicans, I guess. While I was falling apart watching Patsy Cline, they appeared to be falling apart everywhere else. Mitt Romney whined his way to a win in Michigan. He blunted, for the time being anyway, Rick Santorum’s momentum, by crying that the other kids were not playing fair by using the same dirty tricks that he used in earlier primaries and that are standard operating procedure for Republican candidates everywhere.
Romney also cleaned up in Arizona, winning all the delegates there. But they don’t count because Arizona was naughty. And Republicans everywhere are starting to lament the fact that they even have primaries. Quick coronations are so much tidier.
The fact that Santorum is challenging the frontrunner in the first place says a lot. Here’s a man who is against all earthly things (including the Earth): education, sex, science, gays, contraception, Twinkies, you name it. These guys are all running around accusing each other of not being real conservatives. Romney isn’t one because he wasn’t born one. Santorum isn’t because he once smiled at a fellow Republican who didn’t toe the reactionary line. By today’s yardstick, Reagan and Goldwater were downright radical.
The road to Hell is, of course, paved with liberals and progressives. But now even moderation is a sin. And speaking of moderation, another RINO, someone with a little character whose refuses to dance when the tea party types shoot at her feet, is heading off into the Maine sunset. Quick, close the flaps of that great big tent they used to talk about. So long, Olympia Snowe. Let’s go get Richard Lugar and Lindsay Graham.
We sure could use a good singing cowboy right about now. I got a feelin’ called the blu-ues, oh Lawd.
And Where’s Newt?
Can you find Newt before he jumps out from behind a rock and yells “Gotcha”?