As if Bardwell’s initial refusal wasn’t bad enough, he now tells us that he stands by his initial decision: “It’s kind of hard to apologize for something that you really and truly feel down in your heart you haven’t done wrong,” he told CNN affiliate WAFB on Saturday.

Bardwell apparently isn’t aware of the 1967 Supreme Court Decision (Loving vs. Virginia) in which miscegenation laws were ruled unconstitutional, a rather unsung landmark decision that has gone under-appreciated until now.  This begs the question of how educated Louisiana Justices of the Peace must be.  Moreover, JPs, judges and ministers are not empowered to marry only those people that they believe will raise happy, successful children who will be free from discrimination.  Parents are expected to help their children meet life’s challenges and overcome them, whatever their ethnicity.

Those who would like to wring an apology from Bardwell are doomed to disappointment. Bardwell represents the old school racist who is comfortable with his racism even as he denies it exists. While removing him from office is essential, if only to protect his parish from the expense of civil rights lawsuits, it will not have any impact on Bardwell other than economic.  However, one wonders how many other mixed couples he has turned away and why it has taken so long for this practice to come to light.  Already embarrassed, Lousiana now has some ‘splainin’ to do.

But as I think about it, maybe it’s not such a bad idea. Instead of cutting loose the entire Lone Star state, why don’t they identify 20% of the state’s vast territory, grant it to the secessionists, and then create a border? When they leave the Neo-Pecks will have to leave behind the money they’ve paid into the Social Security system and other socialist programs, so they’ll have figure out a way to cover startup costs. But once they’re in business, watch out!

Border Security: The Neo-Pecks can raise their own army (no need for a navy unless they’re on the coast, a big savings there), a true citizens’ army led by Ted Nugent. Because citizens will be legally permitted to discriminate against anyone they wish, there will be no “diversity,” a dangerous liberal idea. In fact, there will be no gays, lesbians, Latinos, African-Americans, or other undesirables. This means that border security will be a major challenge because everyone else will want to move to this new Eden.

Law Enforcement: Internal security can largely be left to the citizens, as they will be required to carry six-guns (remember this is the West). Minors can carry guns proportional to their size, such as .25 caliber pistols easily carried in bookbags and backpacks. Homeowners will be encouraged to stockpile larger caliber weapons for home defense. Given the expected harmony of this new country, there should be little need for self-defense, but the home arsenal will deter invasions by liberal countries like Cuba and Washington, DC.

Education: The educational system will be streamlined (English and  Intelligent Design only).  There will be no “family life education,” which just encourages young people to have s-e-x. Libraries will be small, since once liberal media are screened out there will be little left on the shelves except Reader’s Digest, the Weekly Standard and the “Left Behind” series.  Regent, Liberty and Bob Jones Universities can provide higher education for those smarty-pants intellectuals who really think they need it.

The Arts: Neo-Pecks don’t know anything about the arts, but they know what they like: Larry the Cable Guy, Amy Grant, Chuck Norris, Pat Boone, Steven Baldwin, you know, the big names in enterainment. There will be no abstract art, naked sculpture, drag shows, or Broadway musicals, because all of those things involve homosexuals.

Health Care: Since evolution is just a theory, doctors can assume that viruses and bacteria never change, so they can use the same flu vaccines and antibiotics year after year, another cost savings.  Since only married heterosexuals will be having sex, contraception will be available only after a marriage license has been put on file at the pharmacy.  Treatment for STDs will be unnecessary. Citizens who want health insurance will be permitted to negotiate directly with health insurance companies for the best deal. Employers will be required to grant employees unpaid leave for meetings with a health insurance representative.

Politics & Social Policy: Running a country costs money, but I’m confident they’ve worked out a tentative budget already, including how taxes will be calculated and collected.  Wait…taxes? Doesn’t that mean government? Well, yes, but it will be small. Really, really small. Since homogeneity will be the watchword of this country, only one political party will be necessary, making the electoral process very simple and the legislative process even simpler.

Meanwhile, the rest of can sit back and watch this reality show, breathe a sigh of relief, and appreciate their motto: “Ignoratio beatitudo est” (Ignorance is Bliss.)

The strategy behind these protests and the inflammatory (and misleading) rhetoric is to raise the specter of “socialized medicine,” “rationing,” and “death panels” allegedly sitting in judgment on the futures of sick Americans. What escapes these people is that all three are here and have been for some time. Only we call them “Medicare,” “Medicaid,” and “managed care.” Those who don’t realize this haven’t been paying attention for the past 35 years.

Protesters, those of you over the age of 65 who receive Medicare benefits, please sit down.  OK, now those of you who hope to live to 65 and take advantage of Medicare ( a government-run, taxpayer-supported program) you may also sit down.  Those of you who expect to be wealthy enough to rely entirely on private health insurance without government help for the rest of your life, be seated. Those of you who are absolutely positive that you will never lose your job and need health insurance benefits, take a load off your feet. Silence reigns.

With the exception of the independently wealthy, and I frankly doubt that any are attending these rallies, every American will, at some point, have to rely on government-sponsored, managed health care. Those of us who are fortunate to have employer-supported health insurance are quite familiar with “rationing.” It hides under different names and procedures: “pre-approval,” usual, customary and reasonable reimbursement,” and my favorite, “utilization management,” which is administered by a “utilization management committee.” These and many other procedures are focused on the reimbursement process, which in turn determines how and which health care services are delivered.  If you think we don’t have rationing now, drop into your primary care physician’s office, present your insurance card, and announce that you’d like to have liposuction, and that you’re happy to pay the $35 deductible but no more.

The nonsense about “death panels” is a reference to the proposed plan’s provision of end-of-life counseling mixed in with the U.K.’s approach to utilization management, which is not in the American proposal.  End-of-life counseling is a mental health service for those with a terminal illness. It is a routine part of hospice care, another service many of us may need. It is not roving squads of Death Angels issuing termination orders for of sick Americans.

Whatever their opinion of the current health care reform plans, these protesters mistake their free speech rights with irresponsible public discourse.  To claim that their representatives are not listening to them is ludicrous.  They’re listening, they’re just not hearing anything but misdirected, misinformed fury.

Even professional paranoid G. Gordon Liddy has weighed in on the issue, suggesting on Chris Matthews’ show, “Hardball” that Obama’s mother, wanting her son to be an American citizen, somehow managed to have a birth certificate and birth announcement appear in Hawaii, thousands of miles away from his actual birthplace in Africa. Like his Birther compatriots, he never actually says that Obama was born in Kenya but produces doubtful evidence and challenges Obama to prove his nativity. For Birthers, the possibility, no matter how outlandish, is enough.

Those of us who actually live full time on this planet have considerable difficulty making sense of this issue. I would posit that there are two factors are at work here: a world view that lends itself to paranoid ideation and helpless rage. Racism is likely to be a factor, but that is harder to pin down.

I recently wrote regarding those poor souls who think Michael Jackson is still alive, that “Conspiracy theorists share some common beliefs: nothing is as it seems, nothing happens randomly, there are dark forces too clever for us to detect, and the lack of evidence of the conspirators is proof of their evil cunning. Conspiracy theorists are adept at seeing connections between events that escape the rest of us.  Conspiracy theorists feel sorry for us mere mortals who are too blind to see the Truth. Conspiracy theorists know that the simplest, most likely explanations for an event are never true because that’s what they want you to believe.” I would add that in spite of their cynicism and general distrust of others, conspiracy theorists believe that conspirators, whether they are many or few, can keep a secret from the media and the rest of us for decades. In fact, we know that there are relatively few real secrets in this country, other than the location of Mick Jagger’s Dorian Gray portrait.

The second issue, helpless rage, is what fuels the Birther movement. If these people were only fatalistically resigned to the fact that Obama fairly won the election, they would do what most of us do: grumble, complain, criticize and maybe even organize political opposition and vote.  Instead, they scream and attack. Their fury is a tantrum.

We will likely have to listen to this nonsense for the next three years and you can be sure that many of the Birthers will not relinquish their bizarre opinion, because some people are only happy when they’re angry and fighting.  There will never be enough evidence to prove to them that Obama is an authentic American. Unfortunately, theirs is the least American attitude.

They’re always a bit surprised when I say that the best part of sailing is when you’re done.

On a recent weekend we went to the marina, looking forward to an overnight trip to a nearby creek. We ran down our checklist: full water tanks, Jamaican beer, snacks and dinner ingredients.  We crank up the diesel and creep out of our slip and head for the open water. It’s warm but with low humidity if feels more like September than July.  We pass two young ospreys on a daymarker nest and they give us a wary eye as we motor within a few feet of them. Seeing that we have no food for them so they return to scanning the sky for their parents.

As we motor out of the lee of the creek we feel the breeze begin to build and after another mile we point into the wind and raise the main and unfurl the jib. Then there is that delicious moment when we turn off the engine, fall off the wind and the boat takes  off. We are sailing, almost silently.

It is the near silence that I enjoy most when underway.  The sound of water rushing past the hull, the burgees flapping in the breeze. Neither the Admiral nor I are particularly chatty when we sail. A few words about our course, an offer to trade places at the helm or trim the sails is enough. While one of us is at the helm the other one reads or snoozes and works on a tan.

If we’re lucky the breeze is steady, but most days on the Chesapeake Bay  it comes and goes, from a whisper to a stiff breeze. Today we start low and slow. The water is almost glassy, but we watch cats’ paws approach us from several hundred yards away and the breeze gradually builds until we’re moving along at near hull speed, easing the pressure on the main to keep us in trim. As the day winds down we head for our anchorage.  We sail as long as we can, dropping the main and furling the jib only when we have to start the engine to get anchored.

We know our favorite anchorages well and this one is one we return to frequently. In the bight of a small creek, we are surrounded on almost three sides by a dense, tree-lined shore. Hot, sweaty, and tired, we set the anchor. The Admiral opens the fridge and pulls out two icy Red Stripes, almost too cold to hold. They go down quickly.

The sun is still warm and because it is inevitably in our eyes, we position ourselves under the bimini until it slips below the tree line. As it does, ospreys screech for their dinner and gulls circle the area, looking for a free meal. A heron skids into a landing on the nearby shore and doing his best impression of Mick Jagger begins stalking small fish along the shoreline.

We take turns taking a hot shower in the head, rinsing off the salt and grime and put on clean clothes. It is now that we unveil the Holy Trinity of Sailors: Bombay Sapphire, Tonic and Ice. We mix them into a delightful nectar and listen to Emmylou Harris and k.d. lang coming from the stereo below. I crank up the gas grill on the stern rail and once it’s ready throw on a couple of burgers. While they sizzle the Admiral goes below and dishes out some potato salad. Simple food always tastes better aboard and the night air has sharpened our appetites, so dinner disappears quickly.

After enjoying a few more minutes relaxing in the cockpit, it’s time to turn in. We climb into the v-berth and pull up the flannel sheet. The boat rocks gently as the breeze flows down the hatch, and serenaded by crickets and peepers we are asleep within minutes. And that is why we sail.

Palin’s resignation is likely to result in a can’t-lose situation for her. First, of course, she’ll have to get past the bad taste that her gubernatorial performance and  resignation have left in many people’s mouth, not to mention the political and economic fallout she’s leaving behind. My prediction is that Alaska, being mostly out of the public eye except when Palin is in it, will be left to its own devices after she leaves office and its economic predicament will gradually fade from view, unless a smoking gun is found. Sarah has left the building.

Palin has made another career change and is now reinventing herself from politician to standard-bearer.   As she builds her constituency and fills her pockets she can become an influential power broker or even a candidate, although if she’s elected she would have to serve and display the kind of perseverance for which she’s not known. Soon it will be lucrative speeches and the release of her book, both of which will keep her firmly in the spotlight.  She will build her image as the maverick outsider who takes on Washington, Big Government, the Mainstream Media, and “politics as usual” without having to worry about her job performance or pointed questions at news conferences.  She will be the spokeperson for “traditional family values,” chatting up her fans on the right, thrilling them with her personal story.  The sound of cash will drown out those back home who are cleaning up her messes.

All of this creates a huge potential headache for the GOP. The moderates and pragmatists who want to build the party and regain its former influence will again find Palin a polarizing force who does little for the party as a whole. She will remain an easy target unless she uncharacteristically develops some intellectual curiousity and actually learns what others have tried to teach her.  She may have some influence on the mid-term elections, but I suspect that her star will begin to fade thereafter.

Those who see Palin as the future of the party seem blinded by her dazzling smile, unable to see her flaws, which in the context of politics outweigh her mostly superficial strengths.  She could be the Democrat’s new Best Friend Forever.

Whenever I encounter inexplicable decisions I ask but one thing: whose needs are being met?  In Palin’s case the answer appears to be obvious. Her decision, no matter how she couches it, is about her, her career, and her future. While others may benefit from her resignation, her family and the state of Alaska comes to mind, make no mistake, this is all about Sarah.

Having been thoroughly spanked by all but the most conservative voters and media, Palin retreated to her familiar underdog position, which has now devolved into her familiar victimhood position. She fails to see that she has earned much of the enmity that has been heaped upon her. She performed poorly as a vice-presidential candidate, underwhelming all but the right wing of the GOP.  She became an object of fun, the Dan Quayle of the new millenium. She proved to be immune to constructive feedback and is clearly not a scholar. After returning to Alaska she appeared to have lost interest in governing the state. Now she has shed the shackles of gubernatorial responsibility. With weak oil revenues and the bloom being off her personal rose, being governor just ain’t fun anymore.

This is not leadership. Leadership involves persistence, determination, and a willingness to put one’s own needs aside for the greater good, sort of like parenting, but without the diapers. Palin’s willingness to dump her current job so that she can pursue a job with more glamor and money (talk show host) or fame (tell-all book) or ambition (presidency) tells you everything you need to know about her.  Like most politicians she is an opportunist. However, unlike smart politicians she doesn’t understand that the tough options are almost always the right ones. Seeking the presidency is usually a long journey during which the candidate builds coalitions and establishes his/her credentials, sacrificing and sweating well out of the limelight. Quitting one’s highest elected position three-fourths of the way through a lackluster first term accomplishes neither.

I am not a good example of thoughtful career planning. My own has been characterized as much by sheer chance as by hard work.  But if chance favors the prepared mind, one has to ask for what Palin is prepared. And isn’t finishing what you started a “traditional family value?”

Conspiracy theorists share some common beliefs: nothing is as it seems, nothing happens randomly, there are dark forces too clever for us to detect, and the lack of evidence of the conspirators is proof of their evil cunning. Conspiracy theorists are adept at seeing connections between events that escape the rest of us.  Conspiracy theorists feel sorry for us mere mortals who are too blind to see the Truth. Conspiracy theorists know that the simplest, most likely explanations for an event are never true because that’s what they want you to believe.

Conspiracies that end with someone’s death (JFK, Elvis, Michael Jackson) are especially fun because the principal isn’t alive to refute them, so nothing is too incredible. When you have someone like Elvis and Jackson who had “issues,” then the conspiracies take on the extra quality of tragic victimization. Elvis was a victim of his manager, Michael was the victim of money-hungry parents who made their children lie in court, JFK was a victim of the Mafia and Fidel Castro.  Whole media entertainment groups have sprung up around these beliefs.

To the true believer, there’s never enough evidence to disprove a conspiracy and the absence of evidence is compelling proof of the conspiracy’s existence. To those who still have a shred of rationality, conspiracy theories induce eye-rolling laughter and a fervent hope that these crazy people don’t live next door. Well, they do.

And they’re watching you.

Ich bin ein Geezer.

I am old and eccentric. It is the only explanation for the fact that I am untouched by Michael Jackson’s death and cannot understand why it is still at the top of the news cycle. He was OK until he just got weird.

I must be a geezer, because while I’m sorry that Billy Mays is dead, I am grateful that I won’t have to listen to him shouting any longer. Louder does not mean, “more believable.”

Only a geezer would like to choke that little prick who does the Free Credit Report.Com ads. As a geezer, I would probably get away with it.

Being a geezer explains why most actors under the age of 30 look alike to me and are equally forgettable.

We geezers don’t  give a rip about who marries whom, as long as we don’t have to buy a gift and attend the reception.

Geezers do not watch romantic comedies. We know from experience that “romance” and “comedy” rarely occur together in real life. Usually it’s “romance” then “mind-numbing ennui” followed by the sweet release of dementia.

Popular culture is mostly a yawn to me yet is thrust in my face at nearly every turn. Therefore, what I cannot change, I must embrace. Not only will I embrace it, I will grab it, grope it, and squeeze it. I will wear my pants up to my armpits, held in place with suspenders and a belt. I will  let hair sprout from my ears, wear plaid shirts with a bow tie, and yell at those kids to stay off my lawn.

And if it takes me longer to pee than it used to, well that’s just part of geezing.  I’ll bet it takes Mick Jagger longer, too.

There’s little to say other than you have to admire her unequaled courage and resilience a woman facing the terrifying prospect of dying on the other side of the world, away from family and friends, watching her life ebb away.

We should be so brave and we should be so grateful that we have her example to emulate.