FEE-FI-FO-FIGGER, Boy I Hate A...

-Cynthia McKinney (Love to Chris Rock)

So, Jemima...I mean...The Honorable Ms. McKinney... takes a swipe at a Capital Hill Police Officer (who just so happens to be white) because he had the audacity to stop her after she bypassed the metal detectors (as is her right as a Congresswoman to do) and refused to stop the three times he asked her to stop (as is NOT her right) because he didn't recognize her (what with losing the braids and refusing to wear her member pin, and all).

Rather than stop to address him like a human-being and say "Sir, I appreciate your dilligence, but I'm a Member of Congress...here's my ID", she sucker-punches him.

According to her attorney, "Ms. McKinney is just a victim of being in Congress while black." OBVIOUSLY, it's a race thing.

I beg to differ. Ms. McKinney is in Congress while an ASSHOLE. "Black" doesn't enter into the equation. Throw the book at the bitch, I say.

And, lest I be deemed a racist, please note that I NEVER use the notorious "N-word" in criticizing a person based on their skin color. It's purely based on an attitude. Not only does Ms. McKinney resemble this type, I believe she actually defines it.

In the movie "Reservoir Dogs", Mr. Blonde says to Nice Guy Eddie, "If you're going to act like a bitch, I'm gonna slap you like a bitch"(or something to that effect). Well...

As of this very moment, there are two things that I hate about living in Georgia: the pine pollen is sucking and I live three counties over from a group of idiots who put this horrible woman in Congress.


That is all.

Hollywood Must Die

Much to Hollywood’s dismay, 97.5% of the population could care less about movies about the plight of being a gay cowboy. The same percentage of people could care less about a spending 2 and a half hours watching some rambling, incoherent “indictment” against racism in America. A slightly larger percentage will out-and-out refuse to be bothered with movies which portray poor Palestinians and Arabs being the constant victims of Israel, the CIA etc.

So, to ensure their survival, the studios have to cater to the whims of the unwashed masses and put out crap which will appeal to the lowest common denominator. I, by virtue of often being included in the lowest common denominator have no problem with this. Case in point: I watched Crash (Oscar winner) and The Longest Yard (one of Adam Sandler’s least impressive efforts) and liked The Longest Yard much better.

Hence, the film adaptation of classic television shows was born.

Sometimes, they do a great job (i.e., “The Dukes of Hazzard”, “The Brady Bunch”, “Charlie’s Angels”), sometimes, not so much (“Bewitched”, “The Flintstones”).

For the past couple months, I’ve heard reports that they will be making a film based on the TV show “Dallas”. Because Dallas is my home, and because I grew up watching the show, I actually got a little excited by the prospect.

Not any more.

“Jennifer Lopez has been offered the part of Sue Ellen Ewing, Luke Wilson is negotiating to play Bobby Ewing, John Travolta has an offer to star as J.R. Ewing and Shirley MacLaine is down for the part of Miss Ellie Ewing.”

ARE YOU F*#%ING KIDDING ME?!?!?

JR Ewing played by Vinnie Barbarino, Miss Elie played by Weezer and Sue Ellen played by a woman whose greatest acting role in the past 5 years was in “Jersey Girl”…only because she died in the first five minutes. There’s also word that Catherine Zeta Jones is being considered for Pam.

And to add insult to injury, they may be filming it in Toronto. “Who shot J.R., eh?”

What’s next? Cliff Barnes played by Will Farrell? Lucy Ewing played by Paris Hilton??

(Actually, Paris as Lucy would PROBABLY be good casting. Both of them are fair-haired, over-privileged idiots).

I sincerely hope that this is a joke. The cast being recommended (with the exception of Luke Wilson who actually IS from Dallas), will make the box office for “Gigli” look like “Titanic”.

SO, I’ll do Hollywood a favor an put my “Casting Director” cap on. They would do well to listen.

Bruce Willis as J.R. Ewing.

Eva Mendes as Sue Ellen (since Dallas has such a large Mexican population, a Latina in the role would be appropriate).

Luke Wilson as Bobby Ewing. He IS a pretty good call.

Jessica Simpson as Pamela Ewing. (Yes, I’m serious. Pamela was pretty and worked in a retail clothing store…she wasn’t a rocket scientist. Jessica would be fine.)

Maggie Smith as Miss Ellie (she’s more well known from the Harry Potter flicks, but she was the best part of “Ya-Ya Sisterhood” she can pull off the accent and can be a ball-buster if need be.)

And, of course,

Larry Hagman in a cameo role as the ghost of Jock Ewing.

And, for the love of all that’s good and holy, film the damned movie in Texas!!!

That is all.

One More Reason I’m Sorry I Don’t Live In Texas

-Big Bad Dad offers up his first endorsement of the season

Despite the fact that I lived other places longer than I lived in Texas, I do (and probably always will) consider Texas to be my home. Because of this (and because every member of my family except my wife and daughter are there), I keep an eye on what happens in my adopted home state.

Texas is unlike any state in the US and Texans are unlike any other Americans. They are proud to be Texan first and American a very close second. And if you’ve ever heard a strange story about the state of Texas, it’s probably true:

1. The state of Texas boasts over 6000 lakes…and only one of them is natural.

2. “Juneteenth” originated in Texas. For the uninformed, “Juneteenth” memorializes June 19th, 1865, which is the day that Texas slaves found out they were emancipated….18 months earlier.

3. Texas elected the first female Governor in the US and called her Ma (Ferguson), had a Governor called “Pappy” (O’Daniel) and yet another Governor who gave his daughter the unfortunate name of “Ima Hogg”

4. Texas has created two great political dynasties. In addition to the Bush dynasty, the city of Lajitas boasts the Henry Dynasty. Clay Henry Sr., Clay Henry Jr., and Clay Henry III have each been elected mayor and their reign stretches from 1986 to today. Each of the Henry boys are beer-swilling billy goats. Literally.

This year, my Texas brothers and sisters will go to the polls to elect their Governor. And this year, my endorsement will NOT go to the Republican incumbent.


This year, I support (from Georgia) Kinky Friedman for Governor of the Great State of Texas.


True, I generally like my politicians a little less populist and a little more right-leaning than Kinky, but how can you argue with this platform??

“My platform is to remember that when they went out searching for Sam Houston to try to persuade him to be the governor—and he was the greatest governor this state has ever had—rumor has it that they found him drunk sleeping under a bridge with the Indians. ”

“Politics is the only field in which the more experience you have, the worse you get.”

“Why the hell not?”

He’s the only candidate out there who supports both gay marriage (“I support gay marriage because I believe they have the right to be just as miserable as the rest of us.”) AND freedom of religion/school prayer (“May the God of your choice bless and keep you. I respect Him as long as He does not circumcise me anymore.”).

He has a common-sense position on the death penalty: "I am not anti-death penalty, but I'm damn sure anti-the-wrong-guy-getting-executed."

His position on public education, border control, dependence on foreign oil and gun control are spot on.

He’s a Jew who appreciates Christianity: “Yes, I'm a Judeo-Christian. Jesus and Moses are in my heart, and... both of them were independents, by the way”

He has the distinction of being one of two men on the entire planet to maintain a personal relationship with two of the most polarizing political figures in history: Clinton and W. The other man who shares this distinction, of course, is George H.W.

His most recent exploit took place this past weekend at a St. Patty’s parade where he, as Grand Marshall, enjoyed a Guiness while riding in a convertible along the parade route (in violation of Texas’ open container law). When asked for a comment, he said: “Guinness is the drink that kept the Irish from taking over the world. It would be unthinkable not to have a Guinness during a St. Patrick's Day parade. In fact, it would be spiritually wrong,"

I know you may be saying to yourself, “Dad is being a little capricious. His sensibilities are normally so conservative…how can he possibly be serious about Kinky Friedman? He’s just pulling our leg.”

And if you’re saying that to yourself, you would be wrong. I’m very serious.

I’ve said before that I would love to see a new political party join the fray. The Democrats are broken and the Republicans are running a foot race to failure. Although I disagree with him on some issues (gay marriage being one of several), I agree with him on many more. Besides, the political system in Texas does not allow for a unitary executive (it’s rumored that the Lieutenant Governor actually wields more power than the Governor), so even if Kinky sucked as a Governor, he couldn’t do TOO much damage. If, however, he was successful, he would be one more nail in the coffin of the two-party system.

So, come on. Give the author of “They Aren’t Making Jews Like Jesus Anymore” a shot. Vote Kinky in 2006.

And from one mustached, soul-patched, whisky-swilling, cigar-smoking, witty, intelligent Texas transplant to another: Kinky, I wish you luck.

Looking Back, Maybe It Wasn't Such A Good Idea...

Every child has a fantasy about what he wants to be when he grows up. For some it's astronauts, for some it's a fighter pilot.

I wanted to be a rock star.

To be adored by millions, to have girls throw themselves at my feet, to be able to live a lifestyle made up of wine, women and song, making millions along the way, THAT was the life for me.

I would own a huge house, I would have a fleet of cars with large engines and Italian and German pedigrees. I would travel the world and throw a temper tantrum if ever I found a brown M&M in the bowl.

My wife would be a young, nubile GORGEOUS television star and men all over the world would envy me. We would have a child and I would name him "Wolfgang"...just because I could.

If any of my band mates pissed me off, I'd throw them out of the band. My band would go through multiple incarnations, each one getting progressively worse.

Then I would become an alcoholic who lost part of his tongue to cancer, have a hip replacement and lose my beautiful wife all before I turn 50.

I would cease to put out new music (because nobody in their right mind would work with me again), but would keep repackaging all of the music I made when I was young, cool and relevant, knowing that my fans would buy that 14th "Best Of" album if only I would add one new song to the 19 old songs on the album.

Then I would show up at some awards show where pictures would be taken and, subsequently, would be ridiculed by some asshole blogger in GEORGIA (of all places!) who, growing up, envied the life I had.

I hate to quote a country song while I'm eulogizing the youthful, butt-kicking Eddie Van Halen but, "Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers..."

Dear Diary

- something a little different for post 101


My original intent in putting together this blog was less to generate traffic, or prompt debate or whatever. It was intended more as a diary than anything. I’ve tried keeping journals and have failed miserably at it each time. So far, “Boiled Peanuts and Shiner Bock” is my most successful attempt to keep a journal. Yea, me.

Accordingly, I feel like I should occasionally break away from politics, religion, law, music, etc., and scribble down some “What’s happening in the life of Big Bad Dad” stuff.

This shall be one of those entries. I will call my diary “Smedley” as “Dear Diary” conjures up an image of a teen-aged girl writing in a little pink book.

March 7, 2006

Dear Smedley:

So much going on right now! Let’s start with the really important stuff, shall we?

Wife: Wife is doing great. She’s recently joined a gym and is looking forward to getting slim, trim and in great shape…just in time to get “with child”. She’s on her last month of birth control and is very excited about that. I am too, as it means:

1. My wife, after 6 years of being with me, still likes me enough to carry my spawn;

2. My daughter will get that new playmate she’s been asking about; and,

3. For me, attempts at conception will guarantee an additional amount of “lovin’, touchin’, squeezin’” time, of which I’m a big fan.

(If my in-laws are reading this, sorry.)

Of course, the not-so-exciting aspect of this relates to the actual monetary cost of a child. The one I've got already cost me the equivilent of a Mercedes CLK 320 payment. Add a second, and it's an SL500.

Whenever I start to get worried about that, however, I remind myself that if MY parents had waited to have children until they could afford it, I, as their first-born, would be in the middle of my Sophomore year in high school right now.

Kid: I am blessed to have the greatest little girl ever born. She’s exceptionally bright, very well-mannered, as sweet as sugar and absolutely beautiful. She’s also exceptionally accomplished.

She has recently achieved her most significant milestone to date (with the exception of the “taking-her-first-breath” milestone she reached when she was 10 seconds old):

She is now officially a member of the “I go pee-pee in the potty” sect.

In the past 12 days, she has had one accident, which was partially my fault. I neglected to remind her that she needed to go sit on the pot, and she got so focused on a certain task (climbing up the cabinets to sneak some jellybeans, I believe) that it just happened. She was heartbroken and I had to spend the next two minutes consoling her (all while trying to avoid getting wet myself.)

This episode once again reminded me of a very simple and inescapable aspect of the father-daughter dynamic. Consoling a heartbroken little girl is gut-wrenching for her Daddy.

Suck it up, Dad. It’s a virtual certainty that you’ll have to deal with much worse than wet britches.

House: The wife and I are pricing new hardwood and slate floors for the downstairs of the house and boy is it going to be expensive. If I can figure out how to get the flooring we want for under $7.00 a square foot (including installation), I’ll be tickled pink.

We knew when we bought the house that there were going to be quite a few things we wanted to do to it and each of those things was going to cost money.. Now we’ve just got to learn a little patience.

(I also know that it also sounds a little contradictory for me to be complaining about affording another kid yet talk about spending money on house renovations only moments later. It isn’t. If I don’t do the renovations now, they’ll never get done and I’ll still be complaining about the 30 year-old linoleum when my 2 year-old is in high school. If I get the expensive stuff out of the way now, the next 15 years can be dedicated to cost-efficient decorating projects. I’ve got a plan.)

I’ve also found myself slightly dismayed over the fact that I’m so excited about having gotten most of my “spring-cleaning” yard work done. I fear it won’t be long before I’m standing out front in a pair of boxers, a tee-shirt and black dress shoes, watering the grass, smoking a cheap cigar and yelling at the neighborhood kids to get off my lawn.

Job: Nothing substantial to report on the job. It’s a job in which I’m either running 100 mph or crawling at a snail’s pace. There’s something to be said for each pace.

I’m currently studying for some tests for a professional designation. Taking the practice test before I cracked open the book made me realize that I’m not always as smart as I think I am. Unfortunately, based on the subject matter (Economics and Finance), I fear this will be the easiest of the four remaining tests I have to take (Accounting, Investing and Managing for Solvency being the other three).

Wife, kid, house, job…this is my life. And for that, I’m happy.

Nothing else to report, Smedley.

Big Bad Dad….OUT!

Chapter 3: There Goes That Bad Parent Accusation Again.

"To take one obvious example, conservative leaders and spokesmen ought to be saying loud and often that with a few exceptions, anyone who would place an infant in daycare is a negligent parent and a negligent citizen. A few will, but most won’t for fear of offending too many constituents and of all the Jim Geraghty’s of the world calling them a killjoy."

OK, Dad…BREATHE…

Throughout my life I’ve made choices, some good, some bad, which have contributed to the lifestyle I live today. In spite of the bad choices, I’m not sure that, if given a second chance, I’d make any fundamental changes to the lifestyle I’ve chosen for myself and have established with my family. I also recognize that many people would not choose this life, nor would I choose theirs. Most of the time, as I’ve done in previous posts, I would politely disagree with your choices but congratulate you on your stance and pass up the opportunity to express any snarky or insulting judgements.

This, unfortunately is not one of those times.

Let’s forget for a moment that this comment was made by someone who:

- Has never cut the umbilical cord with his own extended family;

- Has likely, because he’s never lived anywhere outside the confines of Bumfuck Kansas, had little-to-no hands-on experience in the real world;

- Is fortunate enough, both by birth and an unwillingness to get off Mama’s tit, that his entire sheltered life is rooted in a place where such a lifestyle is viable;

It is said that we are the sum total of our experiences and if I ever want to learn how to milk a cow, chase an ambulance or be a right-good Evangelical, I’m sure he’ll be a valuable resource. When it comes to advise on how to raise a family in the real world, where a large portion of the US resides, without using your own extended family as a crutch, I could probably do better.

In the eyes of a cow milking, ambulance chasing right-good Evangelical whose life experience is limited to what little happens on the outskirts of Topeka Kansas, yes, I’m sure I’m a negligent parent.

In the eyes of this negligent, evil, city-dwelling corporate capitalist who could give a shit about his family, it is Mr. Stegall who is doing extensive damage to his family.

Mr. Stegall claims to advocate a return to a more pure time when families served God, denied their material desires, never left their birth place and lived together in perpetual harmony for the rest of their natural lives, most likely ending every night circled around the campfire praying and singing “Kumbaya”. If every family in the US did this, we would never have war, we would eradicate evil and could commune with God, the land and each other forever. Hallelujah. Amen.

You say “To-MA-To”, I say “To-MAH-to.” You say “Crunchy Conservitism”, I say “Theocratic Marxism”.

The tube has been squeezed. No matter how hard we try, the toothpaste is not going to be shoved back in. We evil, capitalist, family-hating, dual-incomed slaves to materialism are not going away.

So, in light of that, who is the more negligent parent? Is it the one who prepares his child for life in the real world (including daycare, public schools) and encourages independence? Is it the one who shelters his children in an Amish type of existence in the hopes that the rest of the world is going to adopt this foolishly idealistic lifestyle and will never have to face a society such as the godless society we live in in 2006?

Stegall says the former, I say the latter.

Do my wife and I work and drop off our kid with the (ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL) babysitter because of our selfishness? Sure we do. Our selfishness knows no bounds.

We are selfish because we spent more on a home than was absolutely necessary so that we could make sure our daughter was raised in a good neighborhood close to her friends, close to my wife’s work and where I have less reason to be concerned for her wellbeing.

We are selfish because we’re going to give our child a public school education. Despite the fact that my wife has a degree in education and is currently a school teacher (thereby making her infinitely more qualified to teach than 95% of the home-schooling parents out there), we believe that home-schooling is a disservice to the child, not an advantage. Home schooling shelters children from scenarios which they are going to face in life and deprives them of the opportunity for hands-on life experience. It deprives them of the ability to OBSERVE right and wrong/good and evil and to exercise the values we hope that we’ve instilled. It leaves children ill-equipped (and, face it, in most home-schooling cases, uneducated).

We are selfish because we’re giving our daughter the tools she will need to successfully pursue the life she desires for herself, whether it be a master of industry, a regular 9–5er or, God forbid, some sort of crackpot, theocratic Marxist who shuns the rest of American society and preaches to the world that their lifestyle is inferior (despite a lack first-hand insight)

We are selfish because we want our daughter to have not only the necessities, but the occasional, completely impractical and unnecessary material item (there’s that darned “slave to materialism” thing coming out again!). She will not get every thing she ever wants, of course, but she will not be deprived of, like it or not, a normal all-American childhood because of some ridiculously stupid philosophy.

We are selfish because, once our children are raised and command lives of their own, we want to have enough left over so that we don’t have to depend on our children to take care of us in our later years (it’s strange how so many of our grandparents, great-grandparents, etc. who were raised in a more enlightened, traditionalist time ended up becoming dependent on their children for support in their golden years. Coincidence?).

I revel in my selfishness for each of the reasons listed above (and some that I left out). If that makes me negligent, so be it. I’ve been called worse by better people.

Best of luck to you, Mr. Stegall. I assure you you’re going to need it.

Chapter 2. Not Even the Ingalls or the Waltons Bought Into This Garbage.

Consider the purposes behind the Benedictine “vow of stability,” described this way:

The vow of stability . . . becomes the guarantee of success and permanence. It is only another example of the family idea that pervaded the entire Rule, by means of which the members of the community are bound together by a family tie, and each takes upon himself the obligation of persevering in his monastery until death, unless sent elsewhere by his superiors. It secures to the community as a whole, and to every member of it individually, a share in all the fruits that may arise from the labours of each monk, and it gives to each of them that strength and vitality which necessarily result from being one of a united family, all bound in a similar way and all pursuing the same end. Thus, whatever the monk does, he does it not as an independent individual but as part of a larger organization, and the community itself thus becomes one united whole rather than a mere agglomeration of independent members.

I am not suggesting that everyone must become Benedictine and swear to the Rule. But there is wisdom here for all.”

Good…because it would be a ridiculous suggestion.

There are many differences between one who subscribes to the Benedictine order and your average American family, not the least of which being that monks know what they’re getting into on the front end and voluntarily enter the monastic life (this followed closely by that whole “situational homosexuality” thing. Ookie.).

Families, on the other hand, do not have that same luxury.

Prior to, let’s say, the 40’s when all of us evil mainstream conservatives fled the nest, a monastic family existence (especially in rural locales) was the norm out of necessity. In the absence of 401Ks, Social Security, Kroger and a Waffle House on every corner, having a large family was a selfish act of self- preservation (not to mention the result of inadequate contraception), It was not due to some altruistic pursuit of the “Permanent Things.”

You had kids to help you plant and harvest the crops. After they were grown, you gave them a plot of land across the creek so that they could continue helping you out with the farm and, once you’re old and debilitated, give them the farm and they, in turn, would keep you fed until you shuffled off the mortal coil. They would do the same with their kids. The circle of life goes on. (Cue Elton John)

Fast forward to today. Technology allows me to speak to my family as often as I want to. It allows me to take a picture of my daughter doing something cute and send it out to 30 different family members within 3 minutes of the actual moment of cuteness (actual moments of cuteness being LEGION in my house). If some family emergency arose which required me to be with my family, I have the option of driving for 12 hours or flying for 2 to get there. I guarantee that I spend infinitely more quality time with my family living 800 miles away than I would if I lived 20.

My parents often say they wish that they could be around my daughter more frequently, but, I have it on good authority (my sisters) that they really don’t spend that much more time with their other grandkids who live within 10 miles of them.

Hey, Mom and Dad made their bed…let them lie in it. If they wanted to be around their grandkids at all times, they could’ve raised us like Amish and made sacrifices when we were younger so they could support us for the rest of their lives but NOOOOOO…they were insistent that we show a little independence when we were kids. Were it not for that, we wouldn’t have turned out to be the prodigal children with separate lives that we are. I hope they learned their lesson

It’s all fine and good to wear the “traditionalist” badge and romanticize a monastic family existence, especially if that’s the lifestyle in which you were raised. For those of us who grew up in a more transient household, such a lifestyle holds absolutely no appeal.

And this begs the obvious question which seems to be lost in the Crunchy dialogue: If this was such a utopian lifestyle, why did it fade away within the span of a generation or two? And you can’t say that it’s materialism that caused it. It may have been a contributing factor, but it’s largely incidental to the true cause.

No, the true reason was that the family unit was held together so tightly was almost solely for survival purposes. I’ve often said that I’m only a couple generations removed from poor white trash (although there may be some which would argue that I’m not as far removed as I think). Judging from stories I’ve heard from and about both of my grandfathers, the “traditionalist life” in which they were raised was FAR from utopian and, as soon as their agrarian, monastic life was no longer necessary to ensure survival of the clan, they did what their hearts, minds, souls and sore asses told them to do: they left.

Why bother putting up with an abusive family and put in hard manual labor from sun-up to sun-down only to live a hand-to-mouth existence? Neither chased the brass ring…one was career military, the other was mostly blue collar. They simply walked away from an unhappy upbringing and created their own lives. Neither of them looked back.

By no means am I insinuating that a neo-traditionalist lifestyle is always negative. My childhood best friend and his wife were both raised in pseudo-monastic homes and both of them are well-rounded, intelligent happy people.

Of course, they now live 500 and 25 miles away from their families respectively and I think are happier for it

I DO, however, think that such an upbringing tends to be too sheltering and, in many cases, suffocating. It also tends to stifle independence…of which I’m a big fan.

Did my move away from my family result in any sort of dissolution of the family bond? Well, I’m reminded of something PJ O’ Rourke once said:

“Bartender! Another scotch, please!”

OK…that’s not relevant to the conversation. What he said that was relevant was:

“Are we disheartened by the breakup of the family? Nobody who ever met my family is.”

I say that in jest. But, in all honesty, it is BECAUSE I place such a high value on my extended family that I spend 10.5 months a year 800 miles away from them.

I am a big brother. My wife is a big sister. Each of us is very protective of our parents and siblings. In addition, we are our parent’s first born. Finally, we each come from extended families in which the various generations all tend to run-together and we are dead in the middle of them. There’s not THAT much more of an age difference between me and my grandmother (the eldest) than there is between me and my daughter (the youngest). As is typical in a large-ish family, everybody has their own opinions about the way things should be done and, invariably, drama ensues.

In the past four years, I’ve had no arguments, fights nor tifts with any member of my extended family and have limited my expressions of displeasure to a snarky remark here and there. This is in large part because I’m far enough removed from it that I’m not dragged into it (nor do I stick my nose in). Hell, I don’t find out about most of the family drama until it’s been resolved.

Ignorance is bliss…and I’m just ignorant enough about the day-to-day of my extended family that I sleep soundly in the delusion that my family is perfect…which is exactly how I like them.

Chapter 1. Defining Economic Necessity

“So if we want to talk about developing real virtue and a life nourished on more than bread alone, we need to stop and critically examine our own desire and the real meaning of economic necessity. ..”

This line is actually worth considering. It is true, as I referenced previously, that our society has become a little too hung-up on material goods…myself included. This became all-too-clear to me after doing my income taxes a few weeks ago, seeing how much money we made and asking myself “where the HELL did it all go?”

Accordingly, my little brood is tightening the belt, paying for past sins and working towards a greater financial security than we currently have. Some of our material wants are going to have to take a back seat…which is, of course, easier said than done AND we will be required to look at some things to determine “Is this really necessary?” And, who knows? Maybe once we’ve established a new spending pattern, the wife and I will be free to explore some other options which MAY enhance our already happy family life. Maybe the wife can start a new career with fewer hours. Maybe she can quit working altogether. Or maybe I can just build that high-tech rec room in my basement with cash rather than on credit.

Sorry…old materialistic habits are hard to break.

“I would suggest that moving far away from one’s kin is virtually never a true economic necessity and almost always rooted in selfish desire.”

After reading this line, I needed to go online to learn a little about Mr. Stegall as I assumed that anyone who would make such a statement likely lives in his mother’s basement.

I was wrong, however. Mr. Stegall is a civil and commercial litigation attorney (read: "ambulance chaser") in Topeka Kansas who owns a farm somewhere close to his childhood home. These two points are indicative of the following:

Mr. Stegall is in a profession which can be found in the largest cities, the most rural hamlets and anywhere in between. Even an attorney who earns on the low-end of the spectrum still eeks out a fair payday…especially given the cost of living in rural Kansas.

Mr. Stegall has deep roots in fly-over territory and did not have a transient childhood. It happens that his roots are in a place where the cost of living and population density (or lack thereof) are extremely condusive to one’s ability to have a little family farm down the dirt road from Mom and Dad’s house.

I’m so happy for Mr. Stegall that he is in a situation which allows him to enjoy his chosen lifestyle. I take offense, however, at his castigation of those who are not similarly situated…even if we WANTED the same lifestyle.

Soon after getting married, my wife and I were faced with a very tough decision. My job, which is pretty specialized, was being moved from Ft. Worth to Atlanta. What made this such a tough decision is that both my family and my wife’s were all located within a 30 mile radius of our little $850 a month, 1000 square-foot apartment in one of the cheaper sections of the DFW area. Our options were pretty clear: be unemployed and risk losing what little we had (and little it was indeed) or follow our selfish desires to build something of our own and move 800 miles away.

It was indeed selfish of us because I put my pride ahead of my family…and by “pride” I mean my ability to feed, clothe and shelter myself and my new bride instead of asking my parents or in-laws to do it for me.

It was selfish because I put my desires ahead of my kin…and by “desire” I mean feeding the fundamental need of any newly married couple to build a life together without relying on the charity of their extended family.

Mr. Stegall’s statement is offensive as it takes one of the most difficult decisions my wife and I (and many MANY other families in this country) ever made and attributes it to selfishness. Of course, this is an easy indictment for one who does not appear to have ever been outside his own bubble to make.

Preface to "Crunchy Is How You Feel the Morning After a Bender, NOT a Political Philosophy"

- I may have to go out and score a book deal.

About three days ago, I started a post regarding some ideas I’ve read regarding this new “Crunchy Conservatism”. Specifically, I planned to address some ideas advanced by one particularly obnoxious lad

Three days and seven pages later, I’m done. What can I say? It’s been a busy week, but I had a lot to say.

As referenced in previous posts, there’s a new book out about “Crunchy” Conservatism in which a new movement is afoot to encourage “mainstream” conservatives to disavow their evil materialistic ways, buy organic, homeschool their children and adopt a new communal lifestyle. Surely, this is the only way to ensure the stability of the family and the continued existence of the “Permanent Things”. I’ve yet to pick up the book, but it is becoming increasingly obvious to me that I need to. National Review is hosting a blog on this book and has allowed a group of “counter-culture conservatives” to bloviate ad nauseum about the virtues of their new movement…and some of these folks are obnoxiously offensive.

Case in Point: Caleb Stegall.

Rod Dreher has (much to his delight, I’m sure) fallen from the top of my list of “Obnoxious Coverservatives I’d Not Like To Be Associated With”. In fact, I feel a little sympathy for the guy. It’s actually been insinuated by Mr. Stegall that Mr. Dreher’s book doesn’t go far enough.

I’m sure that had Stegall been around in 30 AD, he’d have probably told Jesus that the Sermon on the Mount didn’t quite go far enough to promote the cause.

The length of these posts will be long for two reasons: First, I’m sure I’ll have a lot to say. Second, I’m actually posting some of Mr. Stegall’s points rather than linking them just in case he wakes up from a week-long drunk, reads what he wrote when he was impaired and decides to delete everything.

I doubt that will be the case, but why take a chance?

Grab a beer and make yourself comfortable. You may be here for a while.