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Cars: Those Magic Mysterious Machines

 

Can’t blame Dad for trying. He’s no expert mechanic but he certainly practices good car maintenance and knows his way around the most basic emergency procedures that tend to arise over the standard lifespan of a vehicle. He tried to impart some of that knowledge to his girls. But we were always more interested in being behind the wheel than under the hood.

Because when you grow up in Tulsa, road-tripping your way around Texarkana (and that one memorable summer vacation out west, all the way to Boise), driving was a joy. Driving meant freedom. Driving meant wide-open roads and singing at the top of your lungs and playing silly games to pass the time, hitting the occasional quirky roadside diner (even though you packed enough food for an army), stopping on a whim to read a historical marker if you felt like it, then still managing to catch up afterward with that same horse trailer you saw drive off in the distance when you pulled off onto the shoulder. And when night fell, there’d be long, quiet stretches with just the steady rhythm of wheels on road beneath you, the stars above, and the moon following your car as it flew down the highway with Dad at the wheel.

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We’re Sure as Shootin’ in Trouble But We’re Not Dead Yet: Danish Immigration Minister Has a Muhammed Cartoon on Her iPad

 

On September 30, 2005, the Danish newspaper Jyllands-Posten published 12 cartoons of Muhammad intended to assert the right to freely criticize Islam. This came in response to Danish news reports of a children’s book author unable to find an illustrator willing to provide art for his new book on the life of Muhammad. The paper’s editorial board decided to ask members of the newspaper illustrators union if they would be willing to draw Muhammed. Of 42 union members, 12 responded with drawings. The J-P decided to run the story as an opinion piece, a full page titled, “The Face of Muhammed,” consisting of the 12 images and this accompanying text signed by the culture editor of the paper:

“Modern, secular society is rejected by some Muslims. They demand a special position, insisting on special consideration of their own religious feelings. It is incompatible with contemporary democracy and freedom of speech, where one must be ready to put up with insults, mockery and ridicule. It is certainly not always attractive and nice to look at, and it does not mean that religious feelings should be made fun of at any price, but that is of minor importance in the present context. … we are on our way to a slippery slope where no-one can tell how the self-censorship will end. That is why Morgenavisen Jyllands-Posten has invited members of the Danish editorial cartoonists union to draw Muhammad as they see him.” — Flemming Rose

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Seriously, McConnell, What the Hell?

 

Mitch McConnell and his crony, big donor buddies are estimated to have spent $10 million in Alabama (I have also heard $30M) because they preferred one Republican candidate over another Republican candidate. They lost their bet, and squandered millions of dollars that would have been helpful in next year’s Senate races.

I suspect the GOP really doesn’t really want a 57- or 58-seat Senate majority. I think they like it better that they can pretend to forward conservative agenda items and then blame their failures on the defection of a handful of left-leaning Republican senators. But I digress.

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My Life and Times, Tangentially, with Judge Roy Moore (and Why He Won)

 

Alabamians chose insurgent Judge Roy Moore — here’s why. Moore had already seen his fair share of political theatre. A former West Point grad, former military police in the Army, he made national headlines as a Chief Justice of the Alabama Supreme Court — an elected position — for defying a federal court order, for which he was removed from office. He was re-elected to the same office and subsequently suspended for ordering probate clerks to enforce a state ban on same-sex marriages which had been overturned by a federal court.

The campaign reached fever pitch, with President Trump stumping for Sen. Strange in Birmingham, AL and Vice President Mike Pence helicoptered at the 11th hour. On the other side, Breitbart’s Steve Bannon, “Duck Dynasty” patriarch Phil Robertson, Gov. Sarah Palin, and even the star of Brexit from across the pond, Nigel Farage, graced places like Oakhill Farms in Fairhope for Moore. Strange had been branded as “Mitch’s Swamp Boy” and returning the favor, Judge Moore was portrayed as some sort of kook. A crooked kook at that, who won’t mind the store properly and just bring us Alabamians all kinds of “bad ‘rednecky’ PR which we have plenty of, thank you very much” stuff.

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The Four Pillars of the New GOP Coalition

 

In today’s “Michael in the Morning” podcast (which I’m sure you’ve already listened to), the Weekly Standard’s Steve Hayes lays out the four legs of the new GOP stool. Gone are the days of the Fiscal/Social/Anti-Communist coalition of the Reagan era. According to Hayes it’s:

  • The GOP Establishment (McConnell, K Street, etc.)
  • The Traditional Conservatives (Senators Mike Lee and Ben Sasse)
  • The “America Firsters” (Jeff Sessions, free-trade skeptics, etc)
  • The “Ever Trumpers.” (Sean Hannity, die-hard Trump activists, etc)

To get a full explanation, listen to my conversation with Hayes (it starts about 26 minutes in), but I think it’s a good start to the conversation. It also highlights the challenge of finding leaders who can unite this coalition. I doubt if even a Ronald Reagan could get people with such conflicting views into the same tent.

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An Open Letter to the NFL Commissioner

 

Dear Roger Goodell:

You are now presiding over the demise — no, the destruction — of the NFL as the epitome of the greatest sport on the planet, American football. Do you not realize what Colin Kaepernick has started and what your players are doing? They are bringing politics onto the field of the last great bastion of refuge from politics — professional sports in the United States. By not taking action (requiring players to stand for our National Anthem), you are telling fans and the rest of the world they can give the middle finger to us because of their feelings. Well, my feelings are that these players are un-American by their actions for many reasons:

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The Center Did Not Hold: What Bothers Me Most About the NFL Protests

 

I finally am sitting down to write my thoughts about the NFL protests to try to articulate what bothers me most about them. It’s not that a subset of players decided to politicize the game, or that they chose to do this by disrespecting our flag and our national anthem. We have always had the disaffected among us; they have a right to protest, even to the point of calling America unjust and unworthy. It doesn’t bother me that such people exist or that they say their piece in public.

But when this happens, either in the NFL or on college campuses, we expect that those in charge will hold the line. That they won’t collapse and say, “You know, you’re right. We are corrupt. What penance should we do?”

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Question of the Day: The Price is Steep

 

Health and Human Services Secretary Tom Price used private planes for travel at least 24 times since May, racking up a travel cost of more than $300,000 — and taxpayers are footing the bill. The Question of the Day: Should Tom Price lose his job over his $300K in private plane travel?


The Ricochet Question of the Day poses a question about the news, then at the end of the day, we’ll post the best comments. Join the conversation!

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Fighting Taliban Child’s Play Compared to Violating the Progressive Consensus

 

Among the more curious and revealing remonstrations from the Cultural Left in the aftermath of the 2016 presidential election is its deeming the victory of Donald Trump to be “not normal.” Curious because progressives project great concern over shielding individuals from the wrath of a paternalistic society that would impose on everyone its heteronormative (and many other) norms rather than “celebrating diversity”; revealing because it suggests that progressives are actually more concerned with replacing society’s norms with norms of their own.

The totalitarian streak on the Left is universal, as is the contempt with which it holds anyone who strays from its current orthodoxy. Consider the loathing expressed by Remainers for the majority of UK electorate who voted to exit the European Union in the aftermath of the Brexit vote. It is in the same vein as Hillary Clinton’s disparaging “deplorable” comment about Trump voters or Obama’s slicker-than-thou dismissiveness for voters who “cling to guns or religion.”

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Kid Rock and Detroit’s Restoration

 

Detroit has a sad past with deadly riots, so I was little trepidatious when I headed downtown to the opening night of the Kid Rock concert on Sept. 12. Anti-Trump protestors were expected to swarm the streets surrounding the new Little Caesars Arena, which Kid Rock was inaugurating. I had received a note from his publicist that he would be sharing a special message with his fans regarding his political views and plans for Michigan. Smelling a formal announcement that he would run against Debbie Stabenow for Senate, press swarmed the place, and I was one of them.

Word was that Antifa was planning to create mayhem, and I was nervous enough about it to ask a buff client of mine who had military bodyguard experience to accompany me. My stalwart friend and superior half of @WhiskeyPolitics, @davesussman, worried that I might get my head bashed in whilst chatting up Antifa thugs, so he firmly suggested that I just stay away from them. Having reported on a near-riot the day Michigan passed Right-to-Work, I had no intention of taking on crazed Antifa people, but of course, once I got there with a big bodyguard, how could I resist?

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NFL, Hollywood, Match.com, and Cupcakes: No Fun for You!

 

I married into a Pittsburgh family. Not just any Pittsburgh family, but a die-hard Steeler family. Twenty years ago our wedding rehearsal dinner was held at a fancy restaurant atop Mt. Washington that looked into the old Three Rivers Stadium. The bright stadium lights were turned on in tribute to our eventual doomed marriage (we’re friends today … it’s all good).

In the mid-’90s, with no home team, I adopted the winningest football club in the NFL that brought us legends such as Green, Bradshaw, Harris, Swann, and Lambert. Today’s Steelers are continuing the tradition of winning with future Hall of Famers Roethlisberger, Bell, and Brown, among others. Living on the West Coast over the last two decades, the only option to see every Pittsburgh game was to invest in the Sunday Ticket package which costs a few hundred hard-earned ducats. My family doesn’t spend much at the movies, shell out for pay-per-view events, and thankfully outgrew video games, but DirectTV would get our perennial donation so we could watch the majesty that is Steelers football.

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A Canadian’s Perspective on the Anthem

 

While Donald Trump, Roger Goodell, and LeBron James bicker about the US national anthem, let me give you a Canadian conservative’s take on “The Star Spangled Banner.”

On September 11, 2001, I was working in Ottawa as Communications Director to the then Leader of the Opposition. The comms shop had a bank of TVs going that morning and when the first plane hit, we all gathered around. When the second plane came into view, heading for the towers, we all knew what it was and we also knew that there would be a taxing few days ahead as we prepared for the crush of media demands for comment, analysis, reaction, and interviews as well as the Parliamentary demands for questions, answers, motions, and statements.

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Farewell to Title IX’s Kangaroo Courts

 

Last week, the Office for Civil Rights in the Department of Education (DOE) withdrew the Obama administration’s Dear Colleague Letter of 2011. The letter had outlined a set of procedures that all educational institutions receiving federal funds—under Title IX of the 1972 Civil Rights Act—must use to “investigate, adjudicate, and resolve allegations of student-on-student sexual misconduct.” The Obama rules had required that sexual misconduct cases be tried under a “preponderance of the evidence” standard instead of the higher standard of “clear and convincing evidence,” which are traditionally used in such cases.

The first standard allows for a guilty finding where the evidence is more certain than not; with the second standard, the accuser must show, roughly speaking, a 75 percent certainty. The letter permitted the accuser who lost at the university or college tribunal to bring appeals to overturn the initial determination. It strongly discouraged the use of cross-examination by parties or their attorneys, and refused to allow covered institutions to involve law enforcement officials in these investigations of criminal conduct.

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Unbridled Elitism

 

There are no capitalist utopias. No country and no market where unfettered capitalism creates the best possible outcome. Not one. They suffer from smog, from a declining state of education and health, and most of all, from too little humanity. Every time that the powerful tool of capitalism makes things better it succeeds because it works within boundaries. — Seth Godin

Seth should be applauded for efficiency: setting up and knocking down his own straw man in paragraph one. Believing that free, open and voluntary exchanges (markets) are the best solution for eliminating poverty (indisputable on evidence alone) is not equivalent to believing “money is the best indication of value created.”

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The Road Trip from Hell

 

At least, that’s how I thought of it at the time, and for a long time thereafter. The year was 1971. I had just graduated from Washington State University with a degree in Psychology. I had applied to graduate school, and had been accepted at the University of Minnesota. So, how was I supposed to get from Seattle to Minneapolis for grad school?We discussed it in the family. I would need a car, but had almost no money. I was offered my mother’s 1962 Chevy II, four-door car, to drive myself to school. Now, my mother never took the car anywhere but to the local stores and maybe downtown once in a while, so it got next to no highway driving. And since it never got many miles, it never got much service either. Oil changes and inspections were a rare occurrence, so needless to say it was a mess inside. Here is a picture of what my transportation looked like. The car was even this color (brown, so it wouldn’t show the dirt, according to mom).

We discussed it in the family. I would need a car, but had almost no money. I was offered my mother’s 1962 Chevy II, a four-door car, to drive myself to school. Now, my mother never took the car anywhere but to the local stores and maybe downtown once in a while, so it got next to no highway driving. And since it never got many miles, it never got much service either. Oil changes and inspections were a rare occurrence, so needless to say it was a mess inside.Here is a picture of what my transportation looked like. The car was even this color (brown, so it wouldn’t show the dirt, according to mom).

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A Part of Me

 

Today is the birthday of my best friend, dead four years, eight months now. I had one or two postcards in dreams at first, but I haven’t heard anything lately. I will share this sonnet, part of George Santayana’s To W.P.,  for anyone reading this and living with a similar loss and silence:

With you a part of me hath passed away;
For in the peopled forest of my mind
One tree made leafless by this wintry wind
Shall never don again its green array.
Chapel and fireside, country road and bay,
Have something of their friendliness resigned;
Another, if I would, I could not find,
And I am made much older in a day.
But yet I treasure in my memory
Your gift of charity, your young heart’s ease,
And the dear honor of your amity;
And these once mine, my life is rich with these.
And I scarce know which part may greater be,—
What I keep of you, or you rob from me.

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Learning to Drive

 

My first driving lesson was with my grandpa down a dusty county road in northeast Arkansas in the middle of summer. I think I may have been 10 or 11 at the time. I had already wanted to know how to drive for years. I always claimed oldest kid privilege so I could sit in the front seat, next to Mom, as I attempted to memorize the various turns and corrections she made on the steering wheel to take us from town to our country home.

Pa had been watching my sister and I at his house that afternoon. Around lunch time, we went into town to get some baloney and white bread for sandwiches. On the way back to the house, he asked if I wanted to give driving a shot. Boy howdy did I! He got us around the curve to where no one would be watching, then got out of the pickup and told me to scoot over. I could barely touch the pedals, but I managed. He patiently instructed me on which pedal did what, and how to get it out of park, then climbed back in on the passenger side next to my sister.

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