I have been contemplating just what Memorial Day means to me, and as Dan suggested yesterday, what the freedom others have bought for me with their lives means to me.  It hasn’t been as easy as I thought it would be.  One thing I don’t want to do is complain, so while we all know things could be better, I intend to simply celebrate what we have now.  I will

I emailed burrhog yesterday, and again today, and I’ve yet to hear back from him, so I’m going to violate my circumspection and just let you all know what I know.  Here’s today’s email from me to him: Keith, If you can hear me, please click the handset. I’m getting lots of requests for an update. I hope you’re okay. Dan I still haven’t heard, though, and that makes me

Yesterday, Dan Collins asked his fellow guest-posters (and others) to declaim what their freedom means to them.  But Dan’s post—and BRD’s today—both mention the sacrifice of our troops, past and present.  Rightly so.  Our rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness are ultimately secured by those among us who sacrifice the exercise of those rights—and none moreso than those we honor on Memorial Day. To be sure, some

It’s not very often that I’m asked to write something for a special occasion or holiday, and I have to confess to being more than a bit stumped about what to say on this, the darker, more somber fourth of July, but maybe I can make a few worthwhile observations. I am very much of the opinion that the United States of America is a singular entity.  I know of

I don’t really understand why it is that a sudden change in political perspective necessitates a concomitant change in the way one regards people with whom they were formerly quite cordial (and even, in some cases, chummy).  But as with Andrew Northrup and Mona and Ilyka Damen before him, The Commissar—while undergoing an ideological epiphany—has lately been seeking validation from his new buddies by taking pot shots at some of