Maybe the dog does that for me!
Maybe the polls are looking a little better!
by Charlie Leck
I’m in a decent mood tonight. I think it’s the dog, Jasper. He is turning out to be a wonderful pal and we do lots together and, one thing for sure, we don’t talk politics.
We take long walks every day. In truth, I walk and he runs like a crazy one! Lordsy, how he likes to ramp it up and tear through the high grass and crash into a tree he couldn’t see because the grass was both too long and too thick. Strange game, but he likes it!
Yesterday he met Bruno, a Doberman, at the dog park. His new friend’s favorite game was ‘you lie on your back and pretend I take your slim, attractive throat in my big powerful jaws and rip it wide open!’ Strange! My new dog loved that, too! He played it for 20 minutes or so. After each round of the game they’d run through the high grass, the Doberman’s long legs lifting him up so much that he could actually see approaching trees and avoid them.
I like the feel of the Presidential campaign right now. I can’t point to any polls to support my good feeling, but I sense that reality is settling in across the land and the mass of folks are starting to see the real John McCain and the incredibly real Sarah Palin. Their claims to be the candidates of change just don’t ring true! They represent the same-old, same-old. There’s nothing hopeful about it!
One of my brothers writes and asks how I could think about turning over the nation’s foreign and domestic security to Obama? What do we want? My brother wouldn’t understand. We don’t need another bully. We need someone with a brain – someone who can talk with other nations and not at them. There is nothing wrong with electing someone with a high degree of intellect.
I think about some of these things as I walk along with my dog. I just don’t take them so seriously. The sun splashes all over us and we look out and see the lake sparkling in the distance. We hear some church bells tolling and it feels peaceful and hopeful. There’s something magical about a man and his dog. My time with him is thrilling.
He’s got me walking again. I’m not afraid to go 3 or 4 miles. I take it easy and he keeps running back to me, patiently coaxing me along. He brings a tennis ball he found in the high grass and he drops it at my feet. My knees crack as I bend down to pick it up. I throw it for him, remembering the days when I could have thrown in well over a hundred feet. Now I can’t get it out there more than 40 or 50 feet. I laugh at myself and shake my head. My arm was powerful once. I remember a lot of extraordinary power I once had and have no more – those days in Paris when my wife and I fell unalterably in love in a little loft apartment on Cité Trevisse. It happens.
When we circumnavigate the outer trail of the big park and return to our starting point, he wants to go again. My heart says ‘yes’ but my legs refuse to go on. Three miles is a good walk for me. Trying to do six or seven will lay me up for a day or two. Better to be moderate.
The dog disagrees. He bounds forward toward the owner of the Doberman. The owner calls back to me.
“Can he come along?”
“Sure! I’ll wait here.”
Off they go, like kids who have fuel tanks always on full. They bound through the high grass. The Doberman sees the tree they are approaching. My dog doesn’t. The crash is head-on and he writhes on his side, in the grass, for only seconds, and then builds himself up on all fours and chases again after the throat-slasher.
Kids! Kids? What can you expect?
In the car, on the way home, Jasper snores loudly as he stretches out on the back seat.
END that thought!
A note came in my email yesterday to read Jerry Feldman at Daily Kos [Listen Up! We Can Still Win this Thing!]. It's solid, good stuff about how to approach the campaign and how to deal with all the crap that the McCain organization is always dropping around in very slimy places. You might want to read it if you're wondering how Obama can possibly win.
Maybe the polls are looking a little better!
by Charlie Leck
I’m in a decent mood tonight. I think it’s the dog, Jasper. He is turning out to be a wonderful pal and we do lots together and, one thing for sure, we don’t talk politics.
We take long walks every day. In truth, I walk and he runs like a crazy one! Lordsy, how he likes to ramp it up and tear through the high grass and crash into a tree he couldn’t see because the grass was both too long and too thick. Strange game, but he likes it!
Yesterday he met Bruno, a Doberman, at the dog park. His new friend’s favorite game was ‘you lie on your back and pretend I take your slim, attractive throat in my big powerful jaws and rip it wide open!’ Strange! My new dog loved that, too! He played it for 20 minutes or so. After each round of the game they’d run through the high grass, the Doberman’s long legs lifting him up so much that he could actually see approaching trees and avoid them.
I like the feel of the Presidential campaign right now. I can’t point to any polls to support my good feeling, but I sense that reality is settling in across the land and the mass of folks are starting to see the real John McCain and the incredibly real Sarah Palin. Their claims to be the candidates of change just don’t ring true! They represent the same-old, same-old. There’s nothing hopeful about it!
One of my brothers writes and asks how I could think about turning over the nation’s foreign and domestic security to Obama? What do we want? My brother wouldn’t understand. We don’t need another bully. We need someone with a brain – someone who can talk with other nations and not at them. There is nothing wrong with electing someone with a high degree of intellect.
I think about some of these things as I walk along with my dog. I just don’t take them so seriously. The sun splashes all over us and we look out and see the lake sparkling in the distance. We hear some church bells tolling and it feels peaceful and hopeful. There’s something magical about a man and his dog. My time with him is thrilling.
He’s got me walking again. I’m not afraid to go 3 or 4 miles. I take it easy and he keeps running back to me, patiently coaxing me along. He brings a tennis ball he found in the high grass and he drops it at my feet. My knees crack as I bend down to pick it up. I throw it for him, remembering the days when I could have thrown in well over a hundred feet. Now I can’t get it out there more than 40 or 50 feet. I laugh at myself and shake my head. My arm was powerful once. I remember a lot of extraordinary power I once had and have no more – those days in Paris when my wife and I fell unalterably in love in a little loft apartment on Cité Trevisse. It happens.
When we circumnavigate the outer trail of the big park and return to our starting point, he wants to go again. My heart says ‘yes’ but my legs refuse to go on. Three miles is a good walk for me. Trying to do six or seven will lay me up for a day or two. Better to be moderate.
The dog disagrees. He bounds forward toward the owner of the Doberman. The owner calls back to me.
“Can he come along?”
“Sure! I’ll wait here.”
Off they go, like kids who have fuel tanks always on full. They bound through the high grass. The Doberman sees the tree they are approaching. My dog doesn’t. The crash is head-on and he writhes on his side, in the grass, for only seconds, and then builds himself up on all fours and chases again after the throat-slasher.
Kids! Kids? What can you expect?
In the car, on the way home, Jasper snores loudly as he stretches out on the back seat.
END that thought!
A note came in my email yesterday to read Jerry Feldman at Daily Kos [Listen Up! We Can Still Win this Thing!]. It's solid, good stuff about how to approach the campaign and how to deal with all the crap that the McCain organization is always dropping around in very slimy places. You might want to read it if you're wondering how Obama can possibly win.
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