FLY AWAY, LITTLE BIRD

"Fly away, little bird, now fly away home.
Your time here is done - in the sky, you must roam.

Spread your wings and take flight. Above all the pain,
Looking down from on high, none can hurt you again.

Fly away, little bird, though your time here is passed,
For those who have loved you, your memory will last.

On this earth, little bird, you knew heartache and sorrow,
But now, in the sky, there's always tomorrow.

Look there, little bird, look at the clouds, how
They've come out to play. So won't you, right now?

Over there, little bird, there's a dog and a cat,
And a smiling young boy, with a ball and a bat.

Dance and play, little bird, in the sky, bright and fair,
For the things of this world, can't bother you, there.

Fly high, little bird, from there you will see,
That God really does love you - and, so do we.

Be at peace, little bird, and while you are gliding,
Know that one day, in Heaven, we'll all be abiding,

With our Lord - in whose arms - and seeing His face,
You now are at rest - in His Light and His Grace.

For you see, little bird, you've left this world early,
But, for the rest of us, here, the same journey

Awaits. And we'll all, someday, take it,
Cross that Divide, in hope that we make it,

To that very same place, where the Bible has said,
'Where, Oh Death, is your victory, Oh where is your sting?'

For on that day, little bird, we'll join our voices and sing,
To the sound of the Trumpet. First, the Dead will arise,

With the voice of the Archangel, they'll take to the skies.
Then those who are left, we'll all join together,

With Jesus, our Lord. With Jesus, our Savior.
And know this, little bird, on that Glorious Day,

In His mercy - these tears - God SHALL wipe away.
So fly away, little bird, fly. Fly away,

Once Eternity's here, together, we'll stay."

Rest in Peace, Marcus.

M.G.E.

(September 8th, 1983 - August 23rd, 2008)

Memorial Day - 2008: Are We Squandering Their Sacrifice?

"Happy Bloody Christmas!" he said to his comrades, as he dropped the firewood next to the hut.

It was indeed.

Behind him in the snow, Private Jedediah Smith of the Continental Army had left bloody footprints, his bare feet wrapped in filthy rags. Staggering over to the small fire, he sat on the ground - his legs straight out, feet to the flames.

It had been nearly three months since he had owned a pair of shoes. Now, in the bitter cold and snow of Valley Forge, shoes were not the only thing the young soldier and his comrades lacked.

They were low on everything, including food and ammunition. Desertion was on the rise. Just the day before, three men had stood before a firing squad, shot as an example to the rest of the army.

As he rubbed his feet, trying to restore the circulation, Smith had a thought. "Maybe those buggers they shot are the fortunate one's, eh?"

"Aww, shut up, will you? Here, have some firecake."

One of his hut-mates threw the piece of hard "bread" in Smith's direction. He tried to eat the lump of flour and water, but gave up, and threw it in the fire instead.

"No thanks, I'd rather be hungry."

Private Smith was not alone in his misery.

By the time they had moved into their winter quarters along the Schuylkill River, half of General Washington's army was barefoot. Most lacked proper winter coats. Diseases like typhus, dysentery, and pneumonia threatened to kill those that didn't starve.

Out of a total force of 12,000 men, on any given day nearly 4,000 were listed as "Unfit for Duty." But in spite of the hunger, disease, and general privation suffered by those first American soldiers, the winter of 1777-1778 would prove to be the turning point of the American Revolution.

As they left their bloody tracks in the snow, Baron Friedrich Von Steuben, the Prussian officer who had served on the staff of Frederick the Great, whipped the rag-tag army into shape. By the following summer, they were pursuing the British into New York.

The training and discipline soldiers like "Private Smith" received that terrible winter, turned a bunch of farmers into a fighting force that, a short five years later, would defeat the most powerful army in the world.

"Naked and starving as they are, We cannot enough admire, The incomparable Patience and Fidelity of the Soldiery. - George Washington.

Four score and six years later, at a small, Pennsylvania crossroads town less than 100 miles away, two large armies would be locked in an epic battle. That battle would prove to be the turning point in another war. When the slaughter ended three days later, over 50,000 men had become casualties. Of these, neary 8,000 were dead.

The previous Fall, near a place in Maryland called Antietam Creek, America would be sad witness to the bloodiest single day in its history. Before the carnage ended that terrible day, 22,720 Americans would lay on the crimson battlefield - wounded or dying.

At places that became known to History as Miller's Cornfield, Dunker Church, and the Sunken Road, nearly 4,000 Americans died the 17th day of September, 1862.

Though he spoke the words for the men who had fallen at Gettysburg, they most assuredly would apply to all those others who fell, during those four bloody years in our nation's history:

"...The world will little note...what we say here...but it can never forget what they did here...that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion...we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain...that this nation, under God shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

-Abraham Lincoln

Throughout our history, in times of peace and times of war, young men and women have sacrificed their lives, in the service of Freedom. From the Revolution to the Civil War. From the battlefields of France - in two separate wars - to the islands of the Pacific. From the frozen fields of Korea, to the sweltering jungles of Vietnam, the mountains of Afghanistan, the desert sands of Iraq, the blood of America's youth has been shed, so that we could enjoy the blessings of liberty.

As we celebrate Memorial Day 2008, The Flying Curmudgeon wonders if we are honoring that sacrifice, and preserving the legacy so many have died to bequeath us.

"No Taxation without Representation!"

What would those who died at Lexington and Concord, Bunker Hill and Yorktown think of the profligate spending of an out-of-control Congress, some 230 years later?

Staring into cannon loaded with grape-shot, as they marched across the killing fields of Gettysburg and Antietam, at Shiloh and Spotsylvania Courthouse, what would those who, mere moments later, would literally be blasted into Eternity, think of the corruption of 21st century elected representatives?

Would they believe in term limits?

The Statler Brothers had a hit, thirty or forty years ago, called Whatever Happened to Randolph Scott?

Though he would go down in history as one of the legendary defenders of the Alamo, before his date with Destiny, Davy Crockett had served as a U.S. congressman from his home state of Tennessee. From 1827-1833, Crockett championed the rights of ordinary people, and throughout his abbreviated career, would be known as a political reformer.

Upon his defeat in 1833, he famously said:

I told the people of my district that I would serve them as faithfully as I had done; but if not...Since you have chosen to elect a man with a timber toe to succeed me, you may all go to Hell, I will go to Texas.

And so he went.

Maybe Rush Limbaugh's resident musical parodyist, Paul Shanklin, could come up with the song:

"Whatever happened to Davy Crockett...?"

As we reflect on the tens of thousands who have died to secure and sustain liberty over the last 232 years, as Americans we owe it to all of our honored dead, not to squander the legacy of freedom that they bought - at such a terrible price.

In honor of our fallen heroes, during this election year, The Flying Curmudgeon asks all Americans to remember those who have sacrificed so much, and not let their deaths have been in vain.

Let's not sacrifice freedom for a false sense of security. We need to rein in the entitlements and the earmarks.

Let's take back Washington, and return it where it belongs - to the people.

It's time to push for balanced budget legislation again.

Let's end the tyranny of political careerism. As unlikely as they might seem with the current Washington status quo, we need to keep pushing for term limits. Let every representative serve for six years, then go home. Senators could serve for ten.

Every tax-paying American needs to get behind the Fair Tax. Its time to take the purse strings away from the congressmen and their pals on "K" Street.

It's the least we can do for our dead....

and for our children.

God Bless America!

TFC

Operation Chaos: That's Entertainment

For as long as Rush Limbaugh's radio program has been nationally syndicated - this August will be twenty years - his many detractor's on the Left have tried to dismiss him as simply an "entertainer."

He is certainly that...but to his loyal listeners, he's so much more.

Speaking as a loyal "Ditto-head," The Flying Curmudgeon, along with million's of Rush's other regular listeners, has enjoyed countless hours of cutting-edge political humor, as well as some of the most original satire available on talk radio. (For an earlier discussion of this topic on TheFlyingCurmudgeon, see "Bill Clinton MADE Rush? PUUUHHLEEEEEZ!!!!" posted on December 29, 2007.)

A regular part of Rush's show, Paul Shanklin has produced some of the most hilarious musical parodies ever produced. Check out all his CD's at http://www.paulshanklin.com/.

Yes, Rush Limbaugh has kept his millions of loyal fans - and if they were honest enough to admit, many of the "loyal opposition," as well - laughing for years. He is, quite simply, one of the most original and consistently funny "entertainers" that has come along in decades.

However, to dismiss him in such a facile manner indicates a complete misunderstanding of who Rush is, and what his show is all about. Case in point - the tremendous success of Rush's recent, self-proclaimed "Operation Chaos."

As the "Wunderkind," Barack Hussein Obama, appeared to be running away with the Democratic nomination earlier this year, Rush decided it would be beneficial, and only fair, if the Democrats got a taste of their own medicine; namely, as so many Democrats had done in many of the Republican primaries, Rush encouraged Republican voters, in key Democratic primaries, (wherever it was legal under local election law), to come out and "pull the lever" for Hillary, thereby keeping her in the race.

If they could stomach doing so, that is.

Apparently, quite a few Republicans were able to "take one for the team," as it were, because Hillary's primary wins, earlier in Texas, and most recently, in Indiana, have been attributed to this "crossing over." A number of prominent Democrats, among them, Sen. Obama himself, now acknowledge the impact Rush is having on the current primary process. http://www.rushlimbaugh.com/home/daily/site_050708/content/01125106.guest.html

Thanks to the efforts of El Rushbo, and the millions of self-less Republicans who crossed over and "pulled the lever" for Mrs. Clinton, it looks like the Democratic primary race will not be decided until the Convention.

Now That's Entertainment!


TFC

RIP Charlton Heston (Oct. 4, 1923 - Apr. 5, 2008)

Charlton Heston is dead.

The Oscar winning actor succumbed to the ravages of Alzheimer's disease, having announced he had contracted the debilitating illness in 2002.

His death follows the deaths in March of actor Paul Scofield (the 19th), and of Richard Widmark (the 24th), completing the most recent "Celebrity Death Trinity." (As in "Celebrities Always Die in Threes.")

In addition to his Academy Award-winning performance in Ben Hur, Heston also gave Oscar-caliber performances as Moses in The Ten Commandments, and as Col. George Taylor in Planet of the Apes. He was the original I Am Legend character in the classic The Omega Man.
One of the first Hollywood heavyweights to come out in support of Civil Rights, he was later vilified by the Political Left for his support of the Second Amendment and the National Rifle Association.

After hearing Heston had contracted Alzheimer's, George Clooney famously, if not callously said Heston "...deserved whatever was said about him for his involvement with the NRA..." When asked to respond, Heston merely said he felt sorry for Clooney, noting that he (Clooney) was just as susceptible to Alzheimer's as anyone else.

Like President Ronald Reagan before him, Heston had been head of the Screen Actors Guild, and wasn't afraid to speak out in support of his Conservative principles. In a speech at Harvard Law School in 1997, about Political Correctness he stated, "If Americans believed in political correctness, we'd still be King George's boys - subjects bound to the British Crown." He went on to say, "Political Correctness is tyranny with manners."

Heston was one of the last of a dying breed - one of the greats from the Golden Age of Hollywood. He will be missed.

Charlton Heston - dead at 84.

Rest in Peace, Mr. Heston.

TFC

They Beat Horses, Don't They?

Now that ROOT BEER 203 - A Fighter Pilot's Story has been cast to the winds of the World Wide Web, it's time to go Back to the Future, er, back to the present, and deal with one of the pressing issues of our day.

Namely, who is going to be the next President of the United States.

As the saga of the Democratic primary has continued, as mentioned in an earlier post, it has been rather amusing to watch members of the Drive-by Media feign surprise and shock, and HARUUMPH! about the possibility that the junior senator from the Empire State might be less than forthcoming with the truth.

With apologies to Claude Rains, (RIP), in the (slightly altered) words of Capt (Wolf Blitzer) Renault: I'm shocked, shocked to find that Hillary is a liar. (Average, tax-paying American) Croupier: Hey, aren't those my winnings (taxes) she's got there?

PUUUUHHLLEEEEEZ!

The Flying Curmudgeon has to admit, however, as a long-time observer of the Clintons, even he was surprised by the lengths to which Ms. Rodham-Clinton went to conjure up the Tuzla "Sniper Incident."

Is it possible she has reached a new low?

Not according to Dan Calabrese of the NorthStar Writer's Group. http://www.northstarwriters.com/dc163.htm

In keeping with TFC's theme today, here's a blast from the past.

Enjoy.

TFC

Agents/Film Producers - Looking for Your Next Project?

Calling all film producers and interested agents...

After posting Parts 1 and 2 of ROOT BEER 203 - A Fighter Pilot's Story, (which equate to the first 24 pages of the screenplay in Final Draft format), The Flying Curmudgeon will now trust that if the film is supposed to be made, these two excerpts will be enough to spark interest in some studio exec/independent film producer, or agent out there in "The Ether," who is looking for his or her next project.

If anyone is interested, leave a comment on this post with your contact information, and The Flying Curmudgeon will have his people get in touch with your people. (As all comments are moderated before being posted, The Flying Curmudgeon promises not to make public any contact information posted in the comments section.)

TFC

ROOT BEER 203 - A Fighter Pilot's Story (Part 2)

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 203

TEX
I'm sorry, Honey. I love you. Take care of the kids.

He starts to laugh at the irony of his predicament.

TEX (CONT'D)
At least I won't have to swim...

The SONG begins to FADE AWAY as the scene ends.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. RURAL EAST TEXAS SUMMER 1938 - DAY

A typical scene from DEPRESSION-ERA EAST TEXAS. At the end of a long, dirt road sits a small, tin-roofed farm house. Surrounding the house are a few acres of farmland - mostly corn, YELLOWISH-GREEN, THIRSTY FOR RAIN.

The words "EAST TEXAS, SUMMER 1938" appear, then disappear from the screen. Around back sits a hog-pen. Several hogs and pigs try to escape the sweltering heat by burying themselves in the mud. A few chickens scratch in the dirt. A cow grazes nearby.

At the front of the house, TWO LITTLE BLONDE-HAIRED BOYS sit on the edge of the porch, their legs dangling in the air. They are dressed like little boys in rural, 1938 East Texas would be dressed: faded, dirty overalls in bare feet.

Obviously brothers, the OLDER BOY has something in his hands. It appears to be a knife and a piece of wood that he is "whittling." His hair and clothes look wet, his face like he has been crying.

YOUNGER BOY
You gonna tell Daddy what happened?

OLDER BOY
(whispering urgently)
Shhhhhhh! Granddaddy said it was a secret.

ANGLE down the dirt road. A TALL MAN approaches. As he comes closer, we can see his face. The expression says it all - he is bone-tired. On his left arm, he wears an enormous bandage.

Upon seeing the man, both boys jump off the porch and run to greet him, the older one carrying the knife and wood.

OLDER BOY (CONT'D)
(getting a head start)
There's Daddy. I'll race you, BOBBY JOE.

BOBBY JOE
No fair! You jumped up before I was ready.
Daa-aa-dy, ORVILLE GENE cheated again!

As they run up and hug him, the Tall Man smiles down on the two boys.

TALL MAN
Now, now, boys. Let's have none of that.
Your ole' Dad is mighty tired, I just want to
rest a bit. Orville Gene, how did you get so wet?

BOBBY JOE
Daddy, these older...

Orville Gene cuts him off.

ORVILLE GENE
(uneasily)
Uhhh..... Bobby and I were playing near.... the....
the swimming hole and.......I.....and I fell in.

TALL MAN
I've told you about going near that swimming hole,
boy.

The Tall Man walks towards the porch, his sons clinging to him as he walks.

TALL MAN (CONT'D)
(sighing)
I guess it's about time I taught you two how to swim.

He steps up on the porch and as he sits down in a rocking chair, he notices the knife.

TALL MAN (CONT'D)
Son, what have I told you about running with that knife?

ORVILLE GENE
Sorry, Daddy. What happened to your arm?

TALL MAN
Oh, I got a little scratch at work today. Whatcha got there?

Orville Gene holds up the piece of wood.

ORVILLE GENE
I'm making an airplane, Daddy? Do you like it?
I'm gonna be a pilot some day.

TALL MAN
That's mighty fine, son. I'm sure you will. Now,
where's your Mamma?

At this, an ATTRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN woman steps out of the house through the screen door onto the porch.

YOUNG WOMAN
Now, that depends. Just who is it that wants to
know? We get a lot of strangers around these parts,
ya' know.

She sits down in the Tall Man's lap with a giggle, until she sees the bandage.

YOUNG WOMAN (CONT'D)
Dear God, TILLMAN! What happened?

TILLMAN
Oh, it's nothing. One of the towers we was taking
down today fell and cut my thumb. The doctor said
it was nothing to worry about.

YOUNG WOMAN
Doctor? What doctor? You're not talking about that
ole German Quack, are you?

TILLMAN
Now, LORENE. That's not very nice, DR. HOFFMAN
ain't no Quack. He said everything would be fine.

Not wanting to think about his hand, Tillman stands up and goes into the house. An extremely strong man, the only hint we get of the excruciating pain he is in is a slight wince that appears on his face as he gets up.

TILLMAN (O.S.) (CONT'D)
I'm starved. What's for supper? Oh, hi, MAMMA.
Hi, DADDY.

Lorene and the boys stand up and follow Tillman into the house.

CUT TO:

INT. FAMILY ROOM AND KITCHEN OF FARM HOUSE

Sparsely decorated, there is a beat-up Victrola in the corner of the family room. JIMMIE ROGERS can be heard coming from the speaker. Through the screen door, we see an OLDER WOMAN, Tillman's Mother, standing at a stove. An OLDER MAN stands in the kitchen. Tillman goes over and gives his mother a kiss on the cheek. They all sit down at the table and bow their heads for prayer.

CUT TO:

INT. TILLMAN'S BEDROOM WEEKS LATER - EVENING

Tillman lies, unconscious, in a bed surrounded by his wife, mother, father, and a couple of his brothers, VON and ELLIS. His fever-wracked body is drenched in sweat. A SOFT SOUND can be HEARD, like the FAINT BUZZING OF A SAW. Indistinct at first, in a moment the source is readily apparent - they are the SOUNDS OF SUFFERING, and they are constant. He is obviously dying. A DOCTOR gets up from the edge of the bed and closes his medical kit.

LORENE
Well, DR. ANDERSON?

DR. ANDERSON
I'm sorry, Mrs. Elliott. There is nothing more I
can do for him. The infection has spread too far.

LORENE
No! Dear God, No! He can't die!

Lorene collapses in a wave of tears and sobbing and is led from the room by Ellis. He takes her out to the porch where Orville Gene and Bobby Joe are waiting with their baby brother, JIMMY.

Dr. ANDERSON
(turning at the door to look at Tillman
once more)
If only Dr. Hoffman had removed his thumb,
he might have lived.

CUT TO:

EXT. FRONT PORCH OF FARMHOUSE

Lorene sits, inconsolable, on the edge of the porch. In her lap is Jimmy, just a few months old. Orville Gene and Bobby Joe sit next to her, trying to comfort her. In her face is the look of a woman who has just lost her whole world.

LORENE
(sobbing)
What are we going to do?

ORVILLE GENE
(through tears of his own)
It's okay, Mamma. I'll be the man of the house, now.

Orville Gene reaches out to hug his mother.

Lorene turns to look at her oldest son. She takes his little face in her hands and looks into his eyes. She smiles - a sad smile, just the same.

LORENE
You will, won't you son?

The boys hug their mother. ANGLE UP up from the scene on the porch, a FULL MOON rises at the end of the road.

FADE TO:

INT. ROADSIDE DINER KERMIT, TEXAS 1939 - MIDDAY

A hectic scene in the kitchen and counter area of a "greasy spoon" in a small, West Texas oil town.

The words "KERMIT, TEXAS 1939" appear, then disappear from the screen.

A young woman, her simple dress draped with an apron, is behind the counter, busily serving the hungry, sometimes ill-mannered CROWD OF oil-spattered MEN. One of the men tries to pinch her on the bottom. She quickly slaps his hand away, smiling uncomfortably. We finally see her face. It's Lorene.

CUT TO:

INSERT OF WALL CLOCK - it reads 12:20.

CUT TO:

SHOT OF LORENE GLANCING AT CLOCK

LORENE
(to herself)
You're late, MR. WILSON.

CUT TO:

INT. SHOT OF DINER ENTRANCE

A SMALLER-THAN-AVERAGE MAN walks in the door. Unlike the other men in the diner, his uniform is clean and he is clean shaven. His coveralls show his employer's logo: MAGNOLIA OIL COMPANY. On one side we see stenciled his name: BILL WILSON. On the other the words: CREW CHIEF. His bearing belies his stature - he is obviously not one to be trifled with.

LORENE
(pouring him some coffee)
Well, Mr. Wilson, nice of you to join us. I was
beginning to think you weren't coming today.

BILL
(sitting down on a stool)
Please, Lorene, call me BILL. You can say, Bill,
can't you?

Bill sits near the end of the counter, near a large radio in the far corner. He turns up the volume, as a MAN'S VOICE can be HEARD finishing a local news report. The announcer introduces a song and we HEAR BOB WILLS AND THE TEXAS PLAYBOYS.

CUT TO:

ANOTHER ANGLE OF LORENE AND BILL AT COUNTER

Lorene notices a book in his hands.

LORENE
(putting a playful emphasis on his name)
All right, "Bill." What are we reading today, "Bill?"

BILL
"Riders of the Purple Sage," by ZANE GREY. You
should read him some time.

LORENE
(smiling)
Maybe I will. You're not the garden variety "roughneck,"
are you, Mr. Wilson?

BILL
I try to be different, Mrs. Elliott.

LORENE
Now it's my turn. Please call me Lorene. Why so
late today?

BILL
(feigning irritation)
Well, Lorene, if you must know, we had some trouble
with a well we're digging. Had a pipe collapse at the
500-foot level. We had to pull all that pipe out of the
ground and start over.

LORENE
My, how that DOES sound exciting!

CUT TO:

INT. SHOT OF DINER ENTRANCE

An OLDER WOMAN walks in with Orville Gene and Bobby Joe. She is carrying Jimmy.

LORENE
Hi, Mamma. Come on in and have a seat. Hi,
boys. How're you doin' today?

ORVILLE GENE
Hi, Mamma. We're just fine. GRANMA' is taking
us to the drugstore for a soda.

The boys hop up on the stools on either side of Bill. Lorene's mother chooses to stand.

LORENE
(motioning towards BILL)
Mamma, I want you to meet Mr. Bill Wilson.

BILL
(rising from his stool)
How'do, Ma'am?

CUT TO:

SHOT OF LORENE'S MOTHER LOOKING DISDAINFULLY AT BILL

LORENE's MOTHER
(icily)
You can keep your seat. I'm fine, thank you.

CUT TO:

SHOT OF BILL, LORENE, AND TWO BOYS AT THE COUNTER

BILL
Are these your boys, Lorene?

LORENE
They are. The oldest one is Orville Gene, the
middle one's Bobby Joe. The baby is Jimmy.
Say hello to Mr. Wilson, boys.

BILL
Please, call me Bill.

LORENE
It's Mr. Wilson, to you two.

ORVILLE GENE AND BOBBY JOE
(together)
Hi, Mr. Wilson.

BILL
Such fine boys. Their Daddy must be real proud
of them.

LORENE'S MOTHER (O.S.)
(flatly)
Their Daddy is dead.

LORENE
(with an exasperated tone)
Mother! Please!

BILL
I'm sorry. I didn't know.

LORENE
It's all right. He got sick last year and died back
in East Texas. After the funeral, I came back to
Kermit and moved in with Mamma and Daddy.
(leaning forward whispering, so only Bill can hear)
And don't mind Mamma. She's just suspicious of
"strange" men.

BILL
(whispering back to Lorene)
As she should be.

CUT TO:

SHOT OF LORENE'S MOTHER

Lorene's mother motions to the boys to follow.

LORENE'S MOTHER
All right, you boys. Let's get along, now. I've got
things to do.

Orville Gene and Bobby Joe hop down off their stools and begin to follow their grandmother.

As he is passing Mr. Wilson, Bobby Joe stops and looks up at him.

BOBBY JOE
Are YOU gonna be our new Daddy?

Taken aback by the child's forwardness, Bill is unsure what to say. With a sheepish grin, he turns towards Lorene across the counter.

BILL
Well, now, that would depend on your Mamma,
wouldn't it?

CUT TO:

INT. SMALL CHURCH KERMIT 1940 - AFTERNOON

A couple stand at the front of the church, in front of a PREACHER. They are dressed simply - he in an ill-fitting suit, she in a dress off a rack from the local department store.

It's Lorene and Bill on their wedding day. The boys stand in line to Bill's right, Lorene's SISTERS to her left.

Lorene's MOTHER and FATHER sit in the first pew on the left, her mother dabs at her eyes with a handkerchief.

PREACHER
I now pronounce you Man and Wife. You may
kiss the bride.

Bill leans forward awkwardly and gives Lorene a quick peck on the lips. From his expression we can tell - it is the happiest day of his life.

FADE TO:

INT. WILSON HOME DECEMBER 8th 1941 - EVENING

...to be continued.

ROOT BEER 203 - A Fighter Pilot's Story (Part 1)

ROOT BEER 203 - A FIGHTER PILOT'S STORY

Based on a True Story

(Note: UHF RADIO COMMS - ALL CAPS)

FADE IN

EXT. COAST OF NORTH VIETNAM - DAWN

The FIRST RAYS OF SUNLIGHT begin to peek over the horizon. The words "THE GULF OF TONKIN" appear, then disappear from the screen. ANGLE ON SHORE-LINE. With a steady rhythm, the rising tide CRASHES onto the shore, the SOUND of the surf, RISING and FALLING, in time with the waves.

Along the edge of the water, we see numerous DEAD FISH and BIRDS, in various states of decay. A SMALL SHARK, in its final DEATH THROES, gasps for breath. HOLD for a beat, then

CUT TO:

SHOT OF DUNES BEHIND BEACH AND RICE PADDIES BEYOND

Just over the dunes and stretching for several miles is a patchwork of rice paddies. The FAINT STRAINS of TRADITIONAL VIETNAMESE MUSIC can be HEARD playing in the background. Farmers are already in the paddies, beginning their daily routine. A few water buffalo lazily graze nearby. The words "JULY 24, 1968, NEAR VINH, NORTH VIETNAM" appear, then disappear from the screen.

What appears to be a SMALL HILL can be seen on the far side of the paddies. MOVING RAPIDLY toward the "hill," we see that it is actually a NORTH VIETNAMESE 37 MM ANTI-AIRCRAFT ARTILLERY unit, underneath camouflage netting. Beyond the AAA unit, we see what it is defending - a RAILROAD YARD and SUPPLY DEPOT. Around the periphery of the yard/depot, there are several other similarly camouflaged AAA units and a handful of SA-2 SAM MISSILE SITES. All around the area can be seen large holes, obviously BOMB CRATERS, in the ground surrounding the site.

10 miles further west, VEHICLES and MEN approach a LARGE FERRY across a wide river. On either side of the river, there are more AAA units.

CUT TO:

SHOT OF OLD VIETNAMESE FARMER IN RICE PADDY

HEARING a faint SOUND, an OLD MAN, rises from his stoop. With a war-weary expression on his face, he turns and looks out towards the Gulf.

CUT TO:

OLD MAN'S POV

A SMALL SPECK in the distance appears to come toward us. The speck rapidly grows and soon we see, and HEAR, a LARGE GROUP OF JET AIRCRAFT heading towards the coast at high speed.

CUT TO:

EXT. SKY OVER TONKIN GULF

8 A-7 "CORSAIR" II attack aircraft, 4 F-4J "PHANTOM" fighter-bombers, and an EKA-3B SKYWARRIOR electronic jamming aircraft, fly towards the coastline, at 300 knots at an altitude of 12,000 feet.

CUT TO:

INT. F-4 PHANTOM ROOT BEER 203

In the front seat of the PHANTOM sits the pilot - a stocky man with THICK, BROADLY MUSCLED SHOULDERS underneath his flight suit, G-suit, and torso harness: CDR ORVILLE G. "TEX" ELLIOTT, USN. In the back sits a smaller man, Tex's Radar Intercept Officer (RIO), LT(JG) ANDY D.

As their F-4 crosses the beach, ANDY looks down.

ANDY
(on the aircraft interphone)
Whoa! Check out the surf down there, Boss.
What an awesome break. (beat) Ever go
surfing, XO? It's quite a rush.

TEX
(sarcastically)
Yeah, right. You know me. I'm a regular
DUKE KAHANAMOKU.
(changing the subject)
We're almost there, Andy. Heads up, now.

Tex keys his UHF radio mike.

TEX (CONT'D)
ALL RIGHT, BOYS, WE'RE IN INDIAN
COUNTRY. HEADS ON A SWIVEL.

CUT TO:

INT. F-4 PHANTOM ROOT BEER 210

LT FRED L.
SO FAR SO GOOD, XO. WE'RE NOT
SHOWING ANYTHING ON OUR "RAW"
GEAR. YOU GOT ANYTHING?

CUT TO:

INT. F-4 PHANTOM ROOT BEER 203

TEX
Well, Andy? You got anything?

ANDY
(checking his Radar Warning Receiver)
Not yet. Nothing on my "Gadget."

TEX
THAT'S A NEGATIVE, FRED, BUT STAY
TIGHT. THEY WERE LOADED FOR BEAR
LAST TIME.

As the strike group crosses the beach, at a predetermined point, Tex calls:

TEX (CONT'D)
OKAY, GENTS, HERE WE GO. ON THE
COUNT OF THREE...1...2...3...

After the short count, Tex puts the PHANTOM'S two J-79 engines into AFTERBURNER, pulls back the stick, and begins a slow roll to the north. In the background, we HEAR The Fendermen's MULE SKINNER BLUES.

TEX (CONT'D)
STAY WITH ME, WINGIE.

FRED
(in Tex's headset)
I'M RIGHT BEHIND YOU, BOSS.

CUT TO:

EXT. SKY SHOT OF F-4'S MAKING SLOW ROLL

Fred L. and the other two F-4s follow Tex's lead. A few seconds behind are the four A-7s, with their payload of death - 10 500lb. MK-82 bombs each. The PHANTOMS also carry a couple of MK-82s, plus four SIDEWINDER heat-seeking missiles, in case any MiGs show up, and two "ROCKEYE" Cluster Bombs, to encourage the enemy gunners to keep their heads down.

CUT TO:

EXT. NORTH VIETNAMESE 37MM AAA GUN

Upon hearing the PHANTOMS' engines go into afterburner, the NORTH VIETNAMESE GUNNERS pour out of their shelters and begin to uncover their gun. Their OFFICER SCREAMS at them in Vietnamese as they turn on the gun's "FIRE CAN" radar and begin to track the inbound American aircraft.

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 203

ANDY
Okay, XO, they know we're coming. I'm
getting some hits, now.

TEX
DON, STAND BY FOR WEAPONS RELEASE.

CUT TO:

INT. A-7 CORSAIR II MARAUDER 311

CDR DON T., USN
LIGHT 'EM UP, TEX. WE'VE GOT A SPECIAL
DELIVERY FOR UNCLE HO THIS MORNING.

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 203

ANDY
Boss, for some reason, nobody's home at the
ferry this morning. Those FIRE CAN hits are
coming from the railroad yard.

TEX
Is that so? In that case, let's not waste our ordinance
here.
(to third F-4)
OUTLAW, YOU AND 2-1-1 COVER THE
FERRY STRIKE. FRED AND I ARE GOING
BACK TO THE DEPOT.

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 215

OUTLAW
ROGER THAT.

CUT TO:

ANGLE ABOVE two PHANTOMS as they roll towards the ferry.

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 203

TEX
ALL RIGHT, DON, YOU'RE CLEARED IN
ON THE FERRY. LOOKS LIKE THE BOYS
THERE ARE SLEEPING IT OFF. FRED AND
I ARE GONNA PAY A LITTLE VISIT TO
THE DEPOT.

CUT TO:

INT. MARAUDER 311

DON
ROGER THAT, SEE YOU IN A FEW. LET'S
GO, MARAUDERS.

The A-7s follow their escort to the ferry. Tex leads his wingman back to the railroad yard 10 miles to the east.

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 203

TEX
THERE IT IS, FRED. I'M STARTING MY RUN.

FRED
(in Tex's headseat)
JUST A WALK IN THE PARK, BOSS. I'M
RIGHT BEHIND YOU.

TEX
Andy, you got this guy?

ANDY
Affirmative. The whole yard is lit up,
Boss...take your pick.

CUT TO:

EXT. NORTH VIETNAMESE 37MM AAA GUN

The North Vietnamese gun crew sees the PHANTOMS begin their run and tracks them with its radar. Their officer SHOUTS commands in VIETNAMESE.

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 203

Tex arms his "MASTER" switch and selects "BOMBS." INSERT VIEW through Tex's reticle. We see his "PIPPER" move across the ground. When it covers the nearest AAA site, PULL BACK as Tex pulls the trigger on his Control Stick and begins to egress from the target.

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 210

FRED
BULLS-EYE! NICE SHOT, XO, RIGHT IN
THE KISSER. THEY'RE ALL SCRAMBLING
FOR COVER.

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 203

Turning towards the sea, Tex adds power and begins to climb. Suddenly, he feels and HEARS a LOUD BANG, and the aircraft begins to shudder.

TEX
Damn! We've been hit, Andy.

ANDY
XO, the coast is 20 miles, bearing 090.

Tex continues to climb and turn his stricken aircraft back toward the Gulf.

TEX
MAYDAY, MAYDAY! ROOT BEER 203 IS HIT.
WE'RE BUGGING OUT... FRED?

FRED
(in Tex's headset)
RIGHT HERE.

TEX
CAN YOU SEE ANYTHING?

CUT TO:

EXT. SKY ROOT BEER 210 AND 203

Fred maneuvers his aircraft alongside Root Beer 203 to check it for damage.

CUT TO:

FRED's POV

FRED
BOSS, YOU'RE TAIL'S ON FIRE.

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 203 COCKPIT INSTRUMENT PANEL TEX'S POV

As Fred finishes reporting the fire, a fire indication flashes on Tex's instrument panel.

TEX
CONCUR, I JUST GOT A FIRE LIGHT.
I'M GOING TO TRY TO MAKE IT TO THE
GULF.
(to the SAR coordinator off-shore)
RED CROWN, RED CROWN, THIS IS ROOT
BEER 203. AM DECLARING AN EMERGENCY,
CURRENTLY 15 MILES WEST OF THE COAST
NEAR VINH, PROCEEDING DUE EAST.
REQUESTING ASSISTANCE.

SAR COORDINATOR
(in TEX'S headset)
ROGER, ROOT BEER 203. WE'RE LAUNCHING
THE SAR AS WE SPEAK.

CUT TO:

EXT. U.S. DESTROYER STEAMING OFF THE COAST

A U.S. NAVY DESTROYER sails off the coast. A LARGE HELICOPTER sits on its rear flight deck, its rotors turning. HOLD ON SHOT, as the helicopter, a UH-3 Combat SAR "SEA KING," takes off and heads toward the Vietnamese coastline.

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 203

Tex continues to climb and close the distance to the coastline as, one-by-one, his dying aircraft begins to lose its systems.

Another WARNING LIGHT ILLUMINATES.

TEX
FRED, WE'RE BEGINNING TO LOSE HER.
I JUST LOST PC-1.

FRED
(in Tex's headset)
HANG IN THERE, BOSS, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE
IT!

TEX
(to himself)
Now, what was it that McDonnell guy said? Oh
yeah, "...if you neutralize the controls with a
complete hydraulic failure, you can prevent the
stabilator from going "full-down."

Tex holds the Stick in the center position as he gets a THIRD WARNING LIGHT.

TEX (CONT'D)
There goes PC-2. We're riding a rocket now,
Andy. How much further?

ANDY
Just a few more miles, we're almost there.
Looking out around the PHANTOM'S nose,
Tex can start to make out the coastline.

By now, the section of A-7s along with the other two F-4s have caught up with Root Beer 203 and 210.

CUT TO:

SHOT OF OTHER AIRCRAFT JOINING ON ROOT BEER 203 AND 210

CUT TO:

INT. MARAUDER 311

DON
LU-U-U-U-CY, I'M HOME!

TEX
(in Don's headset)
GLAD TO SEE YOU GUYS.

DON
WHAT CAN WE DO TO HELP?

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 203

TEX
SURE WOULD APPRECIATE YOU BOYS
CLEARING OUT A LANDING AREA FOR US.

DON
(in Tex's headset)
CONSIDER IT DONE. LET'S GO, FELLAS!

Don and his A-7s hurry for the coast and make a sweep for ENEMY PATROL BOATS, while Outlaw and the other PHANTOM keep an eye out for MiGs. As they arrive over the Gulf, we see two NORTH VIETNAMESE COASTAL PATROL boats moving at high speed. A couple of well placed bursts from the A-7's 20mm cannon dispatch them with ease.

DON (CONT'D)
(in Tex's headset)
ALL RIGHT, TEX. THE RED CARPET IS
WAITING.

Root Beer 203 finally makes it to the safety of the coastline.

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 203

Preparing for their ejection, Tex tries to slow down by pulling the throttles back on the engines. They won't budge.

TEX
Andy, the throttles are stuck. You need to get
out now. Prepare to eject.

Andy gets ready to eject.

ANDY
All right, Boss. I'm ready when you are. Let's
do it!

TEX
See you back on the ship.

Tex pulls the COMMAND EJECT handle. With a loud BANG, the rear canopy is expelled and Andy is shot out of the cockpit like a round from a cannon.

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 210

FRED
HE'S GOT A GOOD CHUTE, BOSS.
OUTLAW, YOU GUYS WATCH ANDY'S BACK.
I'M STAYING WITH THE XO.

OUTLAW
(in Fred's headset)
YOU GOT IT.

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 203

TEX
LOOKS LIKE IT'S MY TURN, FRED. SEE
YOU BACK ON THE SHIP.

FRED
(in Tex's headset)
GOOD LUCK, XO. SEE YA IN A FEW.

Tex removes his knee-board and gets ready to eject.

TEX
ALL RIGHT. I'M GETTING OUT.

He pulls the face curtain and....nothing happens.

TEX (CONT'D)
What the heck?

The seat didn't fire. The front canopy, which should have departed the aircraft, is still attached. He tries the alternate ejection handle between his legs....and again....nothing happens.

TEX (CONT'D)
This can't be happening.

The ejection seat will not fire. Tex is trapped in his burning aircraft as it hurtles out to sea.

TEX (CONT'D)
Don't give up, dammit! You can do this!

Tex tries the face curtain and the handle between his legs again. But with both, the results are the same. The canopy stays attached and the seat will not fire. In a last attempt to save himself, Tex pushes against the canopy with all his strength. It still won't budge.

TEX (CONT'D)
(resigned to his fate)
I guess I'd better let someone know what
happened...like all the others.

Tex begins to key the mike to let Fred know why he didn't get out. In the background, we start to hear the refrain from BOBBY GOLDSBORO'S hit "Honey" - a popular song that year that he and his wife, BONNIE, liked. "...and Honey, I miss you, and I'm being good, and I'd love to be with you, if only I could..."

CUT TO:

EXT. - NAVAL AIR STATION RAMP - DAY

Tex says goodbye to his WIFE, and his FOUR YOUNG CHILDREN, as he heads off to war. In the background, the ramp is crowded with F-4s, flight crew and other families saying goodbye.

CUT TO:

INT. ROOT BEER 203

TEX
I'm sorry, Honey. I love you. Take care
of the kids.

He starts to laugh at the irony of his predicament.

TEX (CONT'D)
At least I won't have to swim...

The SONG begins to FADE AWAY as the scene ends.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. RURAL EAST TEXAS SUMMER 1938 - DAY

- to be continued.

Since We Last Left Our Hero...

The Flying Curmudgeon has been on a bit of a sabbatical for the last month.

There are never enough hours in the day, not to mention, energy in the body, to do all the things TFC would like to do in this life.

Since TFC last posted, Mike Huckabee (finally) dropped out of the Presidential race. Ron Paul also decided to move on to other projects.

In all fairness to Congressman Paul, apart from the nuttiness when it came to foreign policy, when it came to his theme of smaller government and abiding by the dictates of the Constitution, The Flying Curmudgeon is right there with him.

As for the "loyal opposition," it has been quite amusing to watch the two Democratic front-runners, and their minions, go after each other this past month.

The gloves are definitely off.

First, we got to watch the spectacle of Obama's pastor spewing his racist and Anti-American bilge, and watch the good Senator squirm as he tried to distance himself from the short, angry little man who has been his pastor for the last twenty years.

Does anyone really believe if he were white, that he would still have a Senate seat, let alone still be leading the race for the Democratic nomination?

Now, the Obama camp has trotted out the infamous "Blue Dress."

How long 'til we start seeing knock-offs being offered up for sale on E-Bay?

As for Ms. Rodham - she's a bald-faced liar.

Surprise!

NOT!

TFC will say one thing for her, she's got ba--s, er, chutzpah.

Anyone who has ever had even the most cursory dealings with this woman is intimately familiar with how much she hates everything about the military. (The Flying Curmudgeon has friends that used to fly her around, as well as having known people that knew members of the Presidential Protective Detail. At one time or another all confirmed what a - word that rhymes with "witch" - she is, and how much she despises servicemembers.)

This is not to say it is beneath her to use members of the military for her own purposes, when it is expedient to do so.

In case you missed one of TFC's earlier posts, check out retired FBI agent Gary Aldrich's book Unlimited Access, for a up-close-and-personal look at the former First Lady, as well as her hubbie. Also, as mentioned in an earlier post, Blood Sport gives an unvarnished look at Ms. Rodham-Clinton. Both are available through Amazon.com.

You gotta love the Ragin' Cajun', James Carville. After likening New Mexico Gov. Bill Richardson to Judas Iscariot over the Easter weekend, he refuses to take any of it back. http://www.rushlimbaugh.com/home/daily/site_032508/content/01125113.guest.html

James Carville may be a lot of things, but, disloyal he is not.

That's more than can be said about Gov. Richardson. (BTW, what is UP with that STUPID goatee he is currently sporting? Is he taking lessons from Sen. Obama, and is now trying to shore up HIS bona fides with the hispanic population?)

It just keeps getting better and better.

Don't it?

TFC

The Flying Curmudgeon's Tribute To a Fighter Pilot, and Other Musings

The Flying Curmudgeon is a bit behind on his posting. A few things have happened in the interim:

- In his quest to lock up the Democratic nomination, Barack Obama seems to be solidifying his lead. Since "Super Tuesday," Hillary is 0-10.

(Never underestimate the Clinton's capacity for dirty tricks. Will the "Super-delegates" defy the will of the people and coronate Hillary? It remains to be seen.)

-John McCain has locked up the Republican nomination, Mike Huckabee's refusal to concede notwithstanding.

(TFC to Mike - do the rest of your fellow conservatives a favor and pull out. Is John McCain TFC's preferred canidate? NO! However, he's all that stands in the way of a Clinton or Obama presidency. It's time, Mike. Maybe you can continue to lobby for the Fair Tax in a cabinet level position.)

- Delta and Northwest airlines have announced they are in merger talks. The only remaining sticking point, aside from gaining Dept. of Justice approval, is for the pilot's union(s) to come to agreement.

(If this merger is successful, stand by for the flood-gates to open. With oil back over $100/barrel, United is looking to merge as well, since their emergence from bankruptcy was predicated on $55/barrel oil. They are clearly in an unsustainable position. Even Southwest's CEO, Gary Kelly has said his airline will not sit on the sidelines if the expected wave of mergers occurs. The bottom line is, with margins so tight, and too many seats chasing too few passengers, industry consolidation is inevitable.)

- Here we are in the middle of February already. Time sure moves quickly, doesn't it?

And with time ticking inexorably away, after much internal debate, TFC has decided to take a chance and post an excerpt or two from a screenplay about an unsung hero from the Vietnam War. Hopefully, the right someone might come along and visit TheFlyingCurmudgeon, read the excerpts, and give it a chance.

The screenplay is called "ROOT BEER 203: A FIGHTER PILOT'S STORY" and is the story of U.S. Navy fighter pilot, CDR O.G. "TEX" ELLIOTT.

While leading an air-strike against an enemy position near Vinh, North Vietnam, during the height of the War, Tex's F-4 PHANTOM is hit by anti-aircraft fire. Turning his aircraft back towards the Tonkin Gulf and going "feet wet," he ejects his RIO (think "Goose" in "TOP GUN") from the aircraft. When he attempts to eject himself, his seat will not fire.

The date is July 24th, 1968.

By this time in the war, a number of F-4 pilots have been killed in this manner, trapped in the front cockpits of their PHANTOMS, after their backseaters have ejected. With this knowledge, after several attempts at escape, Tex hurtles to what he believes is certain death. As he does, his mind begins to flashback through his life.

We are transported back to 1938 East Texas, when he tragically loses his father after an accident. We then follow him through his life as he overcomes the loss of his father.

As a somewhat shy teen, (as a result of his father's death) he discovers football, allowing him to go to college on a scholarship and become a Navy pilot. Cheating death on three other occasions prior to the Central Incident, Tex falls in love, and eventually is returned to where the story began - trapped in the cockpit of his burning F-4, as it hurtles out to sea. How he finally makes his escape involves a twist that has is both satisfying and cathartic.

Set with the end of The Depression, WWII, the Korean War, and the turbulent 1960's as a backdrop, there are a number of especially poignant and funny moments throughout the film. Woven throughout the story line is the THEME OF WATER, and how Tex deals with his fear of it, after being the victim of a near-drowning at the hands of some older boys, on the day of the accident that causes his father's premature death.

Kind of a cross between TOP GUN, FLIGHT OF THE INTRUDER, and PLACES IN THE HEART, ROOT BEER 203 has something for everyone and has the potential for box-office success.

Look for the first installment, soon, at TheFlyingCurmudgeon.

As "HOPE" seems to be the buzzword of the moment, here's hoping someone reads the screenplay and likes it enough to want to make the film.

As a special treat, and in tribute to the film's hero, TFC has found a video for a song proposed for the film's soundtrack.

Enjoy.

TFC

John McCain: Hero, Yes, Conservative...?

As Mitt Romney has announced he is withdrawing from the presidential race, barring some unforeseen event, John McCain will be the Republican nominee.

If the loyal reader of TheFlyingCurmudgeon did not catch Gov. Romney's speech yesterday, here is the video:

This is truly a man of class and integrity. Something tells The Flying Curmudgeon that this is not the last we'll see of Mitt Romney.

Now, on to the presumptive nominee.

John McCain is one of those rare individuals who truly is, an American hero.

The courage he displayed while a prisoner of the North Vietnamese needs no further amplification. If the reader has never read Faith of My Fathers, the Flying Curmudgeon highly recommends it. http://www.amazon.com/Faith-My-Fathers-John-Mccain/dp/0375501916

Hero. The word has been so over-used in the past few years, to be nearly robbed of its meaning.

In the case of the Arizona senator, its use is altogether appropriate.

However, history has shown us that military success and courage under fire do not automatically translate to political success.

Witness the disastrous Presidency of Ulysses S. Grant.

His support for the war effort notwithstanding, whatever his claims to the contrary, Sen, McCain HAS strayed from his conservative roots. His voting record speaks for itself.

As the alternative to a John McCain Presidency is too horrible to contemplate, TFC will in all likelihood "pull the lever" for the Senator from AZ.

Unlike President Bush and the Congressional Republicans of the last 14 years, let's hope Sen. McCain remembers who brung HIM to the dance.

TFC

Bill Clinton Slams 9/11 Conspiracy Heckler

Yesterday, Bill Clinton was speaking at a Hillary campaign rally, when someone in the audience began shouting at him:


This doesn't happen very often. The Flying Curmudgeon finds himself in the awkward position of having to agree with William Jefferson Clinton.

Way to go, Bill!

Anyone who believes 9/11 was an "inside job" must also believe in the Tooth Fairy.

TFC

The Way (The Clintons) Were?

How young and thin Babs was in this video.

There is no denying her God-given talent. In the immortal words of Linda Richmond: "She's like BUTTAHH!"

This is probably The Flying Curmudgeon's favorite Streisand song. It speaks to a number of common themes: lost love, enduring friendships, what might have been, the melancholy that sometimes comes as we contemplate our own mortality, etc.

What a shame she couldn't confine herself to the singing.

Now, Barack Obama has won in South Carolina.

Even before this latest victory, the Clintons have been "pulling out all the stops," in their efforts to derail Barack Obama's candidacy. http://online.wsj.com/article/SB120104819435508233.html

Don't you just love this?

The good Senator is getting a taste of what so many others that have crossed the Clinton's have experienced over the years. If the Clinton's political history is any guide, he's in for a tough year.

Cliff Jackson. Billy Dale. Paul Jones. Linda Tripp. Ken Starr.

The names of people who have had the temerity to cross the Clintons, and have suffered their wrath, is legion.

Somewhat amusingly, former Senator Tom Daschle, among others, worries that Bill Clinton may have harmed his "legacy," with his strident attacks against the "uppi....," er, "upstart" Senator Obama. http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2008/01/26/politics/main3755521.shtml

"Legacy"? What "legacy"?

If engaging in extra-marital sex, in the Oval Office itself, with an employee young enough to be one's daughter constitutes a "legacy," then Bill Clinton's legacy is intact.

If subborning perjury, in an effort to cover up that illicit sex constitutes a "legacy," then Bubba's place in History is secure.

If failing to do anything to stem the global spread of Islamo-fascism constitutes a "legacy," then the former President has nothing to worry about.

But, if the "legacy" that William Jefferson Clinton so desperately seeks is the kind of legacy that the Great Presidents - Lincoln, Truman, Reagan, and (in TFC's opinion) George W. Bush, (as History will undoubtedly judge President Bush's foreign policy) - are known for, he is sure to be disappointed.

If anyone knows Bill and Hillary Clinton, it's Dick Morris. Having served Bill Clinton for years, as Governor of Arkansas, and as President, Dick Morris knows as much about Bill and Hill as they know of themselves. In his latest e-mail newsletter, Morris provides special insight on Bill Clinton's recent outbursts, having been on the receiving end of his share of red-faced, Clinton rants. http://www.vote.com/mmp_printerfriendly.php?id=694

During the height of the Lewinsky scandal, when polling data indicated the American people would favor his impeachment or resignation if it were proven he lied under oath, Clinton said, "We'll just have to win, then."

As the confirmed Machiavellian that he is, when it comes to helping his wife defeat Barack Obama, Bill Clinton's tactics don't appear to have changed much in the last ten years.

TFC

Is Conservatism Dead?

Well, McCain has won in South Carolina.

The hoped-for "come-from-behind" effort of Sen. Fred Thompson seems to have floundered on the shore of Lake "Too-Little, Too-Late."

Is it possible for Fred Thompson to pull a miracle out of Florida and Super Tuesday?

Who knows? The odds are against it, however.

Maybe someone can finally convince Condi to allow her name to be brought forward at the convention - a la Ike.

If John McCain can run for President at age 71, surely Condi can be convinced to put aside her desire to be NFL Commissioner long enough to save the Republican party, and the Conservative movement within, from the Rockefeller wing of the party.

Well, Condi, how 'bout it?

TFC

On Loss and Liberty

It's funny how the mind can sometimes play tricks.

This is never more true than when one is mentally and/or physically exhausted.

The other night, after having arrived late to his hotel after a long day of flying, The Flying Curmudgeon had a dream about a childhood friend.

Like TFC, in the dream his friend was an airline pilot. Unlike yours truly, this friend lived in a beach-front home, with his wife and three(?) children. (The Flying Curmudgeon's home is not on the water.)

TFC had not seen his friend in some time. Throughout the dream, the primary theme seemed to be the frustration of not having seen him in a while - and why -and what had happened to the friendship. (As high school classmates, they had been best friends.)

Just as The Flying Curmudgeon was confronting his friend on what had happened to their friendship, he awoke, realized it had all been a dream, and that he was lying in bed in his hotel room. With this, TFC got up, proceeded to his laptop and began to write.

A couple of things about this were odd.

First, TFC rarely remembers dreams, unlike Mrs. TFC, who claims to remember all her dreams. This remarkable gift of recall is not always convenient, when applied to those things that occur during the waking hours.

Second, how real the dream seemed. Upon awakening, it took The Flying Curmudgeon a few seconds to get his bearings and remember he was not standing in his friend's beach-front home, but lying in bed in a hotel room, instead. (And why was his friend's home on the beach?)

The strangest thing about the dream - as of last month, TFC's friend has been dead for 16 years. He died in a military plane crash, shortly before Christmas, a few months shy of his 30th birthday - leaving a wife, an 18-month-old daughter, and the son his wife was carrying that never knew his father.

Waking up angry with a friend who had been dead for 16 years got the wheels in TFC's head turning. With all the things that vy for attention in this world, it had been some time since his friend had crossed TFC's mind.

The sad thing is, this particular person is not the only friend TFC has lost over the years.

Quite a few of The Flying Curmudgeon's friends never lived to see their 30th birthdays - young men all, who gave their lives in service to their country - the majority during times of "Peace."

Friends of the same age, former students, and others, some close, some not so close - all lost in the prime of their lives. Aviation, especially military aviation, can be a very unforgiving business if one is not careful.

Thomas Jefferson once said: "The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants."

Although the United States currently finds itself at war, in the quote above, Jefferson does not differentiate between "Peace" and "War."

Freedom is never free, and must be guarded jealously, lest we forget what it cost our nation in blood and treasure to acquire and preserve it.

As we approach the fifth anniversary of the start of the war in Iraq, and nearly seven years since 9/11, The Flying Curmudgeon remembers those friends who gave their lives in Peace, and those who continue to do so in War.

May we never forget them.

TFC

Linus May Have Been On to Something

In the immortal words of Linus Van Pelt: "I love mankind. It's PEOPLE I can't stand!"

Linus Van Pelt - that blanket-trailing, thumb-sucking, font of pre-school wisdom, from the beloved Charles Schulz comic strip Peanuts.

Linus was wise beyond his years.

Dispensing advice to his long-suffering friend, Charlie Brown, Linus always knew the right thing to say. Whether it was a problem with women (in the person of Peppermint Patty), whether Charlie Brown should trust Lucy, (Linus' sister) to not pull the football away when he tried to kick it, or the deeper, esoteric questions about the nature of Man's existence, Linus had the answer.

C'mon, admit it. You choked up during Linus' soliloquy about the True Meaning of Christmas, in the holiday classic A Charlie Brown Christmas.

No? And you didn't cry during Old Yeller, either. Yeah, right.

It's hard to believe it's been nearly 43 years since A Charlie Brown Christmas first aired.

Since it's debut, the debate over Christmas has changed. It's no longer whether the holiday is too commercialized, but whether the expression "Happy Holidays," or "Merry Christmas" should be used in the marketplace.

Just to be clear where he stands in this debate, during the holiday season, The Flying Curmudgeon is proud to greet his passengers with a hearty "Merry Christmas!"

In his travels, TFC comes into contact with people from all walks of life. Poor people, rich people, the famous and not-so-famous. The overwhelming number conduct themselves with decency and respect.

Occasionally, he has a person get on his aircraft like the "gentleman" who came onboard the other day.

"Did you get over your being drunk last night," he asked TFC upon boarding the aircraft.

"Excuse me, sir? What did you say?"

He repeated, "I said, did you get over being drunk last night?"

Incredulous, TFC responded, "Sir, if you would like to fly to (our destination that day), I would suggest you not say that again."

At that, the man didn't say anything else and proceeded back to his seat. Had he pushed the issue, TFC may have had to delay the flight, in order to have an FAA mandated urinalysis, to prove his sobriety to perform his duties.

It's amazing how presumptuous people have become these days.

Before TFC became a pilot, he would have never dreamed of saying something like this to the captain of a commercial flight he was boarding.

Unfortunately, thanks to the past actions of an irresponsible few, from time to time, the rest of us have to deal with the occasional smart aleck like the man above.

When it comes to folks like him, Linus may have been on to something.

TFC

What This War is All About

The following video is extremely disturbing and not meant for children. Please do not click on the video link if you are someone easily disturbed by graphic images and audio.

With the passage of time, it is tempting to want to forget about the events of 9/11 and to consign them to the past, like so many other tragic events in our history.

It is tempting to do so, because given the option, Americans would rather not be embroiled in war. At our heart, we are a peace-loving people, we are a generous people.

What other country puts its money where its mouth is, when it comes to global disaster relief and foreign aid, like the United States? The answer is: NO OTHER COUNTRY.

If a disaster strikes anywhere in the world, it is the U.S. that ALWAYS takes the lead in providing aid and comfort to the victims, regardless their race, religion, or their government's opposition to our government.

This is why, when The Flying Curmudgeon hears the Left in this country talking about how "...we need to find out why they (the Islamo-fascists) hate us...", or words to that effect, it is so unbelievably infuriating.

In the case of the Islamo-fascists, they hate us because WE ARE, because we breathe, because we are alive. They hate our very existence, our way of life, and given the opportunity, they would kill every man, woman, and child in our country.

And this is not hyperbole, this is reality.

The stated objective of Osama Bin Laden and his Al-Qaeda compatriots is to kill as many Americans as possible. It is important to note, he never differentiates between Republicans and Democrats, Conservative or Liberal, he merely says "Americans."

The bad guys couldn't care less about our politics, except when our political infighting helps them achieve their ends.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND THIS SENATOR REID? SPEAKER PELOSI? DO YOU GET THIS MR. SULZBERGER?

Every time you stand on the floor of the Senate, Sen. Reid, and rail against the Administration's efforts to defeat terrorists, you provide aid and comfort to those that would kill you and your entire family.

When you go overseas, without diplomatic portfolio, and sit down with a brutal thug like Bashar Assad, Speaker Pelosi, you help out those who would set off nukes in your beloved San Francisco.

And you, Mr. Sulzberger, of all people, a Jew, should understand the nature of those that would do us harm. If there is any doubt what the Islamo-fascists would do to you or members of your family if given the chance, just ask Danny Pearl's widow.

Your paper's actions during a time of war have been nothing short of treasonous. By revealing sensitive intelligence-gathering sources and methods, you have, quite likely, contributed to the deaths of future victims of terror.

Way to go, Art! I'm sure your grandfather would be very proud.

The reason TFC put this tragic video on his blog was to remind people what this war is all about.

It is tempting to want to relegate the events of 9/11 to the past, to forget about them, and move on with our lives. In so doing, we are able to delude ourselves into thinking that we are not at war, and, in our minds, at least, pretend we are back in the 90s, when everything was "right in the world."

Unfortunately, back in the 90s we WERE at war, the average American, who was more interested in where the NASDAQ index was at the time, just didn't know it.

There were a lot of powerful people at the time, however, who DID know we were at war and chose to either ignore the fact, or, treat it like a law enforcement problem.

As the year 2008 progresses, and the different presidential candidates vy for position, The Flying Curmudgeon encourages you to think about the video above and understand this - the War on Terror trumps every other issue. As you decide who to support, think about which candidate, if elected, is going to do his or her best to keep you and yours safe from those who would kill us.

If we are all dead, nothing else matters.

TFC

Iran, Al-Qaeda, and the Lessons of History

"I am coming at you. You will explode in a couple of minutes."

With those words, five Iranian "Boghammers" approached the USS Hopper, USS Port Royal, and the USS Ingraham, which were operating in the international waters of the Strait of Hormuz, this past Sunday, January 6th.

Ignoring repeated warnings broadcast from the U.S. vessels, the Swedish-made boats, capable of attaining high speeds, (manned by the fanatic Iranian Revolutionary Guard, armed with Rocket-Propelled Grenades and machine-guns), continued their provocative approach. Just as the the U.S. warships were about to fire on the boats, the Iranians turned and sped away.

We should have blown them out of the water.

The reluctance to engage what were, obviously, Iranian vessels bent on testing our resolve, can only solidify the view in Tehran that the U.S. does not have the political, or military will, to challenge their efforts to gain regional hegemony.

In light of the recently released, factually and motivationally-questionable National Intelligence Estimate, the window of opportunity that the U.S. still has to prevent Iran from acquiring nuclear weapons, thereby changing the balance of power in the entire region, is rapidly closing.

How many times in history has weakness in the face of such naked aggression led to more aggression?

In the absence of a French or British response to his remilitarization of the Rhineland in 1936, (in direct violation of the Treaty of Versailles), Adolf Hitler was encouraged to annex Austria in '38, and invade Poland the following year, plunging Europe, and the rest of the world, into WWII.

Throughout the 90s, the U.S. failure to respond to repeated terrorist attacks only encouraged more of the same.

Most specifically, the ineffectual U.S. response to the "Black Hawk Down" incident, and our impotent Somalia policy, in general, actually encouraged Osama Bin Laden and Al-Qaeda to pursue their Jihad against the West. In an interview with ABC News in 1998, Bin Laden said, "The youth were surprised at the low morale of the American soldiers and realized more than before that the American soldier was a paper tiger and after a few blows ran in defeat."

We didn't learn of Al-Qaeda's involvement in Somalia until 1996, when former Al-Qaeda operative, Jamal Ahmed Al-Fadl defected to the U.S. http://www.globalsecurity.org/security/profiles/jamal_ahmed_al-fadl.htm

(A side note: Have you ever noticed how adept the "Drive-By Media" is in securing interviews with the World's thugs and tyrants? If they can find Bin Laden, why can't our military? Although Pakistani President Pervez Musharraf is certainly in a delicate situation, perhaps it is time to tell him that he either gets serious about finding Bin Laden, or we are going to send Matt Lauer to Peshawar, with a Special Forces escort, and get him ourselves. )

Once again, the U.S. finds itself in direct conflict with Iran.

In 1987, during the height of the Iran-Iraq War, in response to Iranian attacks on neutral shipping in the Persian Gulf, the U.S. began escorting reflagged Kuwaiti oil tankers from their terminals in the Northern Gulf, through the Strait of Hormuz, under the codename Operation Earnest Will.

As part of this effort, the U.S. had staged two oil platform construction barges, named Hercules and Wimbrown VII, in the Northern Gulf, as staging bases for patrols designed to thwart Iranian mining activities and attacks. http://faculty.washington.edu/neelyd/NSCI%20113/Selected%20Readings/Appendix%20-%20Selected%20Readings%20Lessons%2012-18.pdf

On several different occasions, U.S. Marines and Navy SEALs, supported by Army helicopters engaged Iranian forces, killing dozens. These coordinated attacks, along with Operation Praying Mantis, (the U.S. response to the mining of the USS Samuel B. Roberts on 14 April 1988), effectively ended the Iranian naval threat in the Gulf at that time.
As the 20th Anniversary of Operation Praying Mantis approaches, and in light of Iran's obvious attempts to acquire nukes, the United States needs to heed the lessons of history, and refuse to back down in the face of Iranian provocation.

TFC

Bill, Hill, Jesse, Al, Barack, and the Politics of Race

The aircraft was just pulling into its designated parking space, as the captain and first officer stood behind the gate agent, watching her manuever the jetway up to the main cabin door.

The ear-splitting noise began to dissipate, as the engines began to wind down - the captain who brought the aircraft in having shut off the engine fuel switches - the two waiting pilots could now pull their fingers out of their ears.

With that, the first officer opened the door to the stairway leading down the backside of the jetway.

"Hey, there's a police car out here, with a limo." The waiting captain stuck his head around the corner to see who would rate such special treatment.

"I don't believe it. It's Jesse Jackson."

Sure enough, the Reverend himself was climbing up the jetway, accompanied by a local police officer, and three other people. The other people turned out to be two of Jesse's personal assistants - one male, one female - and another person, also male, who the captain assumed was from the mayor's office.

Evidently, the Good Reverend had an "in" with SOMEBODY in high places, with a direct line to the airline, and could therefore bypass the usual routine reserved for the Great Unwashed.

As soon as word got out, a large group of airline employees had congregated at the aircraft, watching the Reverend and his aides being screened by TSA for the flight. Regular boarding had been delayed so the VIPs could be screened privately. Shortly thereafter, the police officer left.

When the screening was over, the crowd left, and the only people still standing at the aircraft were Jesse, his two aides, and the "mayor's" aide.

Having said their "Good-byes," the "mayor's" aide turned to leave. Before he opened the door to the back of the jetway, however, he stopped, turned, and pointing to his lower lip, in an apparent attempt to imitate Bill Clinton said, "You better get some ice on that."

(As the astute reader of TheFlyingCurmudgeon must surely recognize, these are the words that Bill Clinton "allegedly" said to Juanita Broderick after "allegedly" raping her when he was Attorney General of Arkansas. As has been reported in the past, Ms. Broderick's charges are very credible, and have never been denied by the former President.)

Hearing this, the Reverend turned to his aide and, referring to the "mayor's" aide responded, "He always be clownin'."

(The irony of hearing this was particularly striking, since Jesse Jackson was supposed to have been Bill Clinton's "Spiritual Advisor" during the whole "Monica Lewinsky Scandal." As it was later revealed, while "ministering" to the President in his hour of need, the Good Reverend was already making payments to his own mistress in California, who had borne his "love child," some time before.)

All four of them seemed to get the joke, and no one seemed the least bit embarassed by this - least of all Jesse - since they all started laughing. The "mayor's" aide then opened the door and stepped off the jetway. At this, the Reverend turned, and began to board the aircraft, followed by his two aides. As he entered the aircraft, he shook hands with the two flight attendants in the front, and then turned and shook the captain's hand.

Upon seeing Jesse Jackson in person for the first time, the initial thing that struck The Flying Curmudgeon was how big he was. Well over six-feet-tall, and easily 250 lbs., he is a HUGE man.

Television does not do him justice.

As the Reverend and his entourage had shown up at the last minute, and since the flight was booked "full," the only seats available to the three were all the way in the back. So - to the back of the airplane they went.

Finally, the aircraft was boarded with the rest of the passengers, backed off the gate, and we taxiied to the runway and took off for our destination - a large, mid-western city.

Upon landing roughly two hours later, TFC taxiied the aircraft to the arrival gate, and the process was reversed. First, all the "regular" passengers deplaned, and next, the Reverend and his aides. As before, Jesse was very cordial, shaking hands with the flight attendants on the way out. When he got to the cockpit door, just prior to turning to leave the aircraft, he stopped, stuck his hand out and said, "Captain, ya'll gave me the Rosa Parks treatment."

Somewhat taken aback by this, extending his own hand to shake Jesse's, TFC replied simply, "Sorry, sir, we were booked."

Obviously, Jesse didn't care for the accommodations in the rear of the aircraft. Apparently, he had assumed he would be put in First Class. On this completely full flight, however, this would have meant bumping passengers who had already paid for the privilege of sitting there.

"Okay, TFC, where are you going with THIS one?"

First of all, the Reverend's comment was revealing. EVERYTHING that Jesse Jackson perceives in this world is perceived through the prism of race. Anyone else, arriving at the last minute to an otherwise full airplane, would have accepted the situation for what it was, and not personalized it the way he did.

And why wouldn't he? Jesse Jackson has built a rather lucrative career around injecting race into every conceivable situation. Ditto the Reverend Al Sharpton.

Maybe TFC missed it, but, did Al ever publicly apologize for the Tawana Brawley thing? Did he ever apologize to the falsely accused New York City police officers, and their families, for putting them through that years long ordeal?

How is it that now, after that disgusting episode, the Freddie's Fashion Mart tragedy, as well as a number of other tawdry affairs, the Reverend Al is treated so "reverently" (pun intended) by the media in this country?

Calling this man a charlatan is an insult to charlatans everywhere.

And yet, Democrats still flock to Harlem, in order to kiss Al Sharpton's ring. Though TFC is not exactly a fan of the "I-man," where does the Reverend Al get off pointing fingers at Don Imus, or anyone else?

Also, returning to Jesse for a second, the fact that he and his aides could find humor in something as tragic as a woman's rape is nothing short of repugnant. To people like Jesse Jackson, (and Bill Clinton, for that matter), "regular" folks like Juanita Broderick, Monica Lewinsky, et al, are not really human beings at all, but merely objects, meant to satisfy some brief, primal need - to be disgarded as soon as they are "done" with them.

Now, here we are in 2008, an election year.

Hillary has just staged a "comeback," as it were, in New Hampshire, after the beating she took in Iowa at the hands of Barack Obama.

Barack Obama. What to do about Barack Obama? In their quest to regain their "rightful" spot as the occupants of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, this is the conundrum the Clintons are faced with.

Senator Barack Obama is not Jesse Jackson, nor is he Al Sharpton. A polished, charming, and extremely likeable individual, the Clintons are forced to tread a very fine line. Notorious for attacking anyone who would dare stand in their way, in attacking Barack Obama, they risk alienating the very people who have helped them get where they are.

After all, as Nobel-prize winning author Toni Morrison told us back in 1998, Bill Clinton was the "First Black President."

Break out the popcorn, folks. To say the least, the next several months should be very entertaining.

TFC

Are The Wheels Coming Off the Hillary Express?

It's been a rough couple of days for Hillary Clinton since her drubbing in Iowa. Could the wheels be starting to come off the Hillary Express?

Possibly. However, one should never underestimate the Clinton Machine's capacity for dirty tricks, and willingness to do whatever it takes to achieve its ends.

(Check out the latest on the Gateway Pundit and TFC's comments regarding the same.) http://gatewaypundit.blogspot.com/2008/01/hillary-booed-in-new-hampshire.html

One must be careful what one wishes for. With an electorate that seems to want change, and no clear front-runner on the Republican side, (Huckabee's showing in Iowa, notwithstanding, November is a long way away), the GOP may want to reconsider its opposition to the Hildabeast.

A Hillary nomination would solidify the base much more so than an Obamination.

An Obamination? Sorry. An Obama nomination. Where was TFC going with this? Oh yeah.

Obama could wind up capturing the Black vote, and all those single/divorced women who see Hillary as the female version of the Second Coming. Though TFC disagrees vehemently with his politics - if elected and manages to effect a wholesale pull-out of Iraq, for instance, the bloodbath that will ensue will be of Biblical proportions - Obama seems like a sincere, likeable fellow, albeit a naive one. If much of the Republican base stays home on election day, he might manage to attract enough independents to win the general election.

The Flying Curmudgeon was going to devote another post to this subject, but this seems as good a time as any delve into this.

Not since Ross Perot ran his aborted campaign in 1992, can TFC recall being so unsure of which candidate to support.

When Perot first entered the race that summer, the civil war in Bosnia was raging, and as TFC mentioned in an earlier post, he was flying missions in support of NATO operations there.

With his straight-forward manner, and "down-home" folksiness, Perot seemed like a man who could "get things done."

In addition to the famous 1979 mission Perot arranged to gain the release of two EDS (Perot's electronics company) employees from an Iranian jail, in 1969 he had attempted to have humanitarian aid delivered to U.S. POWs in Hanoi. http://www.cnn.com/ALLPOLITICS/1996/conventions/long.beach/perot/life.career.shtml

This willingness to take risks in order to do what he felt was right, and his "no-nonsense" manner was very appealing at the time. However, as soon as he "tossed his hat into the ring," the political heat began to rise, and Perot backed out.

Okay, fine. Not everyone can put up with the media scrutiny that comes with being a presidential candidate. But when he later re-entered the race, Perot just seemed wishy-washy.

TFC would vote for George Bush, the Elder.

As it happened, and would be the case four years later, Perot turned out to be a "spoiler," splitting the Republican ticket just enough to allow Bill Clinton a slight edge in the Electoral College.

Some have suggested Perot colluded with Clinton, in an effort to "get back" at the Bushes for a personal grudge he held against the elder George Bush. http://brothersjudd.com/index.cfm/fuseaction/reviews.detail/book_id/306

The fact is, since Ronald Reagan passed the baton to Bush '41, there has not been a "true conservative" in the White House. Bush the Elder was beholden to the Eastern-establishment wing of the Republican party. Sadly, his son seems to be similarly beholden to less-than-conservative elements of the GOP.

Therein lies the problem with the party of Lincoln - it forgot who "brung it to the dance."

In 1994, when Newt and the Contract With America wrested control of the House away from the Democrats for the first time in a generation, the GOP had been given a mandate by the American people to stop the big government, big spending ways that had become de rigeur in Washington.

Unfortunately, Bill Clinton outsmarted Newt with the government shutdown of '95, and much of the momentum the Republicans had had to enact long-needed changes was gone. In '96, of course, we had scandal-after-scandal, culminating with Clinton's impeachment two years later.

The controversy surrounding the 2000 election need not be delineated here. Suffice it to say, in spite of winning the White House with the narrowest of margins, George W. Bush began his presidency acting as if he had won a clear mandate.

The Flying Curmudgeon admired him greatly for this.

When 9/11 happened, President Bush demonstrated the kind of resolve that only a few of our Presidents have possessed. This was the defining moment in his Presidency. Leadership is about doing what is right, not necessarily what is popular. In TFC 's opinion, in spite of a few missteps, (the early Iraq policy probably the best example of these), when it comes to foreign policy, George W. Bush has been right on the money.

When it comes to domestic issues, however, "43" has been a huge disappointment. Failing to wield the veto pen throughout the first six years of his Presidency, the Republican party received its just reward with the loss of the House and Senate in 2006.

Under the guidance of former Clinton War Room-operative, Illinois Representative Rahm Emanuel, the Democratic National Committee shrewdly fielded candidates who ran as social conservatives, thereby capitalizing on the GOP rank-and-file's, (AKA Reagan Republicans), as well as the country's, growing frustration with the Adminstration and Congressional Republican fecklessness.

Two years have passed and we find ourselves in the beginning of the runup to Election Night 2008. In The Flying Curmudgeon's opinion, not a single Republican candidate stands out as "The One."

To one degree or another, every contender for the GOP nomination - Giuliani, Huckabee, McCain, Romney, Thompson - has something that disqualifies him from being called a "true conservative."

Needless to say, TFC will vote for whichever candidate winds up being the nominee.

However, until one of them (Thompson, perhaps?) starts appearing a little more Reaganesque, those of us in the Vast, Right-Wing Conspiracy might want to consider easing up on Hillary, at least long enough for her to gain the nomination.

TFC