No man is an Island … unless an Island he is

zombie-hands

Now I know what a Zombie Apocalypse
might look like …

I stand alone.  It’s official.

At some point this week, my last hope that good parenting, a quality standard of living, and the example – so often set here – that a grounded political philosophy can hold up to any intellectual challenge was smothered in the simple act of renewing a Pennsylvania driver’s license.

My youngest son changed his voter registration to Democrat.  And he is the smart one!

Was the smart one …

How did he express his change of affiliation when asked?  “I changed my mind.”

He made it sound like he was changing his socks.

Maybe it’s a statement on my Leadership.  Maybe I didn’t politically proselytize enough when the boys were so impressionable the correct politic would have been permanently ingrained, like their Philly accents.  Maybe I made one too many mistakes as a parent.

Oh well …

So now I am surrounded.  But that’s OK.  I can take solace in the following.

    • Neither one of them votes to my knowledge; and unfortunately, getting an Absentee Ballot is about to get a lot harder for one Temple Owl!
    • Mr. Hoot is also going to love taking the Broad St Subway back to school in the company of so many of his Democrat buds!
    • The two lost offspring who still list our home as primary residence do not as yet have to buy their own healthcare on those sterling examples of Government efficacy and Democrat “know how”, those Obamacare exchanges.  (I just want to be in the room when they find out how much they will be paying!)

doctor-obamacare

    • Neither have they had to worry about supporting themselves entirely on their own, and by doing so discover just how hard it is to stay ahead of the curve all the while supporting so many who simply don’t bother trying.
    • Nor do they possess the baseline from which they can gauge all that marvelous Hope and Change to which they are obviously drawn.
    • I still hold very limited influence over my Better Half. Carol votes Republican – I think – but has little interest in changing party affiliation for some reason.

In the end, I will continue to stand as the Lion at the Gate.  Politely accepting the political materials dropped off at the house by my Democrat opposition during elections cycles and quietly sorting the mail.   Not sure why those materials never seem to arrive with their intended receivers.

I guess all’s fair in Love and Poltics!

Of course I told the house’s latest Democrat that he will always be welcomed back into the real Party of Progress … once he regains his senses!

But for now, I am the lone Grand Old Party stalwart beating back the political zombies seeking to weaken the ramparts, while keeping the inmates calm and reassuring them that they can have their political say the second Tuesday of every November!

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5 thoughts on “No man is an Island … unless an Island he is

  1. Don’t lose heart Mike. Take solice in the words of Winston Churchill.

    ” If at 20 you are not a liberal you have no heart. If at 40 you are not a consevative you have no brain.”

    • Funny … When he broke the news to me, he explained that since he’s been in college he’s been re-thinking things.

      I completely understood, despite my tongue-in-cheek post, because I was the same way in college.

      Liberal … but not so bright in the ways of the world.

      • Yeah, it’s common among the young…..particularly for those who have not yet held full responsibility for themselves.

        In my teen years I thought democratic socialism made perfect sense. It still does, in a perfect world. But the world is far from perfect as I learned soon after. I went to work for Pantry Pride (remember them?). I worked 80 hour weeks, did a good job, earned my money. Then I saw, week after week, month after month the same people buying complete junk with food stamps. Now I’m all for helping my fellow man out of a bind but after a while it gets aggravating to see that fellow man eating Cheese Doodles instead of apples on my dime. It began to dawn on me…..some of these people have no intention for getting back on their feet, not so long as I keep feeding them. Soon my notion of socialism fell apart.

        But I retained a liberal attitude. The “rich” aren’t doing their part. Right up until I came to realize that not only are some people not paying any taxes, they are recieving tax refunds on those taxes they didn’t pay! And those people aslso tend to be the ones on entitlements. It began to dawn on me….some of these people have no intention for getting back on their feet, not so long as I keep feeding, housing, providing medical services, transportation, cell phones, tax refunds, utility assistance, babysitters, stimulus packages, etc. Soon my notion of liberalism fell apart.

        At some point I was talking with my best friend, Gus. He owns a popular restuarant at 611& County Line. We were talking about the issues of owning a business. I could hardly believe what he has to deal with. It makes me wonder why anyone would want to own a small business. Soon it came to me. Independence, self-reliance, responsibility. Very admirable qualities in my fellow man. Soon my realization of conservatism came to be as it is today.

        Hey Mike, go say hello to Gus at the Red Lion, tell him Eric sent ya. It won’t get you a discount but it will get you a puzzled look. He isn’t much for the internet and will have no idea how a guy in Wisconsin got a guy in PA to come into his restuarant.

        Try the veal. No, seriously…it’s the real thing…none of that veal patty shaped pork junk passed off as real veal.

        • He owns the Red Lion diner?!? We eat there semi-occasionally … usually for breakfast. It’s right down the street.

          When I get the chance to absorb this tome, I’ll respond with my own experiences on liberalism.

          • He and his two brothers, yeah…they own the place. He came from Greece when he was 8. His father, a veteran of WW2 and the Greek civil war afterwards worked his hands to the bone to support the family. His mother sewed much of their clothing. They worked hard and today own the American Dream of their own accord and determination.

            I had the pleasure of living next door to this family as we grew up in Philly. Gus and I were each others best man at our respective weddings.

            Ask him about the “napkins” he bought for his mother’s dinner party. That was my idea. It’s fun to mess with the immigrants when they don’t know the word “sanitary”. Just picture the pride on a 11 y.o. boy’s face as he’s in line at the Food Fair with the “best” napkins for his mother.

            His family, they are heros to me. Fought hard, worked hard, and what they have is their’s.

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