Cindy Sheehan will be fasting and weeping. I won't!

The temps are in the 90's. The blue skies above me are dotted with a few puffy, white clouds (small in size, non-threatening in appearance). It is the Fourth of July, Independence Day, the 230th birthday of the United States of America.

Yesterday we were treated to the spectacle, once again, of Crazy Cindy Sheehan, standing on a soapbox (the "Must Read" page) in the backyard of Michael Moore's website. The small details are worth noting in passing; Sheehan needs instruction in grammar, punctuation and the use of a spell-checker. But anyone, myself included, can be found lacking in those areas. She also needs a reality-gram. Early on in her comments she derides Senator Clinton for supporting the Resolution that would allow the proposal of an amendment to the Constitution that would restrict the burning of our flag. While there is very little that pleases me as much as watching a catfight between two Moonbats, I have an obligation to say the following: HEY, STUPID! Clinton voted AGAINST it! Source

You have to wonder what color the sky is, in Cindy's world.

Sheehan wrote that the American flag "does not fill me with pride: it fills me with shame and that flag symbolizes sorrow and corruption to me right now." She goes on to write "The flag represents so much lying, fixed elections, profiting by the war machine, high gas prices, spying on Americans, rapid erosion of our freedoms while BushCo literally gets away with murder, torture and extreme rendition, contaminating the world with depleted uranium, and illegal and immoral wars that are responsible for killing so many."

I have to feel pity for her children, watching their mother making a fool of herself in public, unraveling like a cheap sweater. One has to feel genuine empathy for her former husband, who watches in noble silence as his ex-wife drags his name through the mud and make it a synonym for "treason" and "sedition". He chooses to move on in silence. Casey Sheehan chose to serve his country. I choose to speak out against her, where and when I can.

She sits in the airport typing. The miserable, hate-filled woman, spends hours pounding away on her laptop, venting her spleen. She writes that "I could leave if I wanted to and, in fact, have received many offers to be an ex-patriate (sic) in many friendly countries." "Facts" are not something in which Sheehan frequently deals. She deals in vitriol, hate, bile, deception, loathing and rage. Above all, rage. If it is a fact that she has received such offers, I believe that she should accept them, because with each passing day, her presence on American soil becomes less and less appropriate.

"Everybody needs to stand up, go out of their comfort zone," Sheehan said. "And I don't understand how people can party tomorrow while people are suffering." Source

You don't understand, Cindy? No problem! I'll explain it for you. To begin with, just having you on the planet puts me, and many, many other Americans, outside our "comfort zones". But the issue is resolving itself as you become increasingly irrelevant. Secondarily, here's how "people can party tomorrow while people are suffering." Fill a cooler with ice and pack in a whole bunch of bottles and cans containing beer. While the beer is chilling, fire up the coals in the Webber. Set out a bunch of styrofoam cups and a large bottle of Jose Cuervo Gold on the pool-deck (a paper plate with quartered limes is always a nice touch). Say a prayer of thanks for all the freedoms we enjoy as Americans. Say another prayer for the safety of our troops. Say a prayer of thanks for the food we are about to consume. Say a prayer for all those who are suffering everywhere. Get a large watermelon from the fridge, cut it in half with a large knife. Put the two halves, with the knife on a table near the pool and tell everyone to help themselves. Throw the meat on the grill and announce "Grill On!". THAT, Cindy (you brain-dead cow), is how "people can party tomorrow while people are suffering." 'Scuse me, gotta go now. Can't let those steaks burn.

"I implore you, while you are enjoying your potato salad and fireworks on the 4th to reflect on what the star-spangled banner means to you." she writes. Cindy, I will do just that. I will offer a prayer of thanks for every soldier, sailor, Marine and Airman who sacrificed to give me the freedoms I enjoy daily, some of which you abuse without shame. I will marvel at the bounty of our land and the generosity of its people. I will take great joy in watching baseball games and be reassured by the smiling faces of my fellow Americans as they stand up while the national anthem is being sung or sing along with "America The Beautiful" at the beginning of the seventh-inning stretch.

You can sit in your ditch in Crawford, Texas, sweating and cursing and weeping as you stick to your water-only fast while everyone around you chows down on brown rice, tofu, curry (vegetarian, of course), bean sprouts and goat's milk. I'll be at the game with my friends, hotdog in hand, listening to the most wonderful words in the world "Beer, here! I got ice-cold beer!" Then I will turn to one side and hand a twenty-dollar bill to a complete stranger. He'll pass it on to someone else he doesn't know either. And the process will continue until someone I can't even see hands the money to the vendor. The vendor will count out the correct change and hand that and my ice-cold beer to whoever handed him the money. The pass-along process will be reversed until the beer and change are handed to me. In fifty years, I've never seen anyone skim a penny off the change that was in transit or take a sip off the beer. THAT is part of America too.

Enjoy the ditch and the bottled water, Cindy. That's your choice. I'll enjoy the beer and the dog. That's MY choice. God Bless America!