Welcome to boys and girls to Mr. Bush's Neighborhood! (Where kids grow up fast, or we send them to Iraq!)
The shrub administration is nearing the end and all of their arguments and excuses are being refuted. A little too late to jump on the "I told you so" bandwagon from the shrub "supporters" jumping off the republucan ship before it sinks completely under a wave of unrefutable truth.
Once again, reasons to go to war with Iraq are running thin:
1. Weapons of mass destruction
2. Black market uranium sales
3. Link to al-Qaida
4. Liberate the Iraqi from a dictator
5. Spread Democracy throughout the region
And any others that you can remember that I might have missed.
After three trips into the region, (2-Desert Shield/Desert Storm, 1- Op Enduring Freedom), and many other countries in this war on terrorism, the bottom line has never changed; it's all about the oil.
In Desert Shield /Desert Storm, we were asked by the United Nations, the majority of the Arab Nations in the region, and the Sovereign State of Kuwait to really liberate an occupied country from a brutal dictator who sought to pay off their war debt accrued from the Iran Iraq war of 1980-1988.
In bush's neighborhood, the price of war has cost us our standing in the world community, INFLATION, the blood of our armed forces fighting for a lie, and anyone who stands against the re-puke-lican administration.
Currently, there are four to six, (maybe more), oil companies that are waiting to take control of 80% of Iraqi oil field while Iraq gets to keep 17 oil fields. To name a few, Exxon/Mobile and BP (British Petroleum) are looking to have complete control of said oil fields for 35 years into the future. What a deal! Made through the "secret meeting" at the White House between rove, cheney, and the CEO's of the oil companies. They stand to make over $21 TRILLION dollars. That's roughly $70,000 for every American today.
In a speech by Dennis Kucinich last week, some of it was a reading of the Oil Deal that shrub is saying Iraq must sign. Now, thanks to bush and his henchmen, America is into extortion. Remember, this is the same administration that has brought us $3.25 a gallon (on average) and rising, just in time for summer. We have been reduced to cannon fodder for the "morally" right and the oil companies that stand to become a little bit richer. For every American Soldier and Iraqi citizen that dies, the oil companies alone stand to take in roughly $21,000,000.00 dollars.
Kucinich also mentioned that this plan was formulated before the invasion. Hussein, at the time had agreed to leave Iraq and go into exile before the invasion.
9/11 was allowed to happen by bush & co. but the only thing that stood in their way was our civil liberties to speak out against it. Now, shrubco is pushing two "emergency" bills through a now weak House and Senate to authorize presidential authority over the House and Senate. In other words, shrub wants to run all three branches of government before "they come and get us". It's strange that this little tid-bit of information was never mentioned on any of the major news networks and Fox Noise. A tiny blurb may have been uttered, but this bill was proposed more than a month ago.
Through all of what has happened during the course of this administration, preparations are being made to gear up for another war and another invasion: Iran.
Stay tuned for the next edition of Mr. Bush's Neighborhood!
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
3 chapters left and I can get back to real work...
Chapter One
The Death of a Salesman
Modern Day
The quarter mile drive was amazing. Pines, birch and weeping willows lined the road while a soft breeze swayed their branches. Birds of blues, yellows and reds sang songs in the high tops of the green trees as gray fox lumbered by. A doe stood ever so still, claiming invisibility beneath the shade of an oak as the dark blue mini van passed slowly. Once out of sight, she made her way carefully, ears on full alert, to the river only yards away.
Angela Moore drove squinting against the late morning sun, even though her dark sunglasses set upon the bridge of her nose. She was a lovely woman with long blond hair that was pulled back into a lose ponytail, stray tendrils clung to her face. She was raised in a town such as this one, a small, close knit community. Upon finishing college and marrying, she left the small village of Meco for the bright lights of New York City. Not her choice, her husbands business. She felt alive in returning to the green and sweet, crisp smells of the mountains while forsaking the stark metal and steel of the big city. Though, she’d even give all of this up to have her husband back.
Angela met Al Moore at a college fraternity party. She was in a culinary arts school and catering the event, and he was one of the fraternity men. Their chance meeting came when she, ever so ungracefully, dumped a tray of chicken wrapped lobster tails on his starched, white shirt. She turned a deep shade of red and bolted for the comfort of the kitchen, with, to her horror, Albert Moore directly behind her, laughing. He had a wonderful, infectious laugh. That only made his stunning ice green eyes sparkle that much more. He finally convinced her to accompany him to dinner. He had to have her after that. He needed to spend his life with her, spoil her, love her, always. It took months of convincing, but she finally gave in. They were married in the rose garden of his aunts, in a quiet ceremony. Shortly after, he landed a job on Wall Street. So, she smiled and followed.
It was a good marriage. Much love, laughter and two wonderful sons. Even though she hated city life, she loved her small piece of it. Her family. That is, until the day the policemen graced her doorstep with news that broke her heart forever. Her beloved had been killed. She remembered that day. The day she fell to the floor, the day she humbled herself before those policemen, her neighbors, her children and God.
Angela, sullenly went to the wake and funeral and somehow survived the many guests that filled her home with flowers and food. Her sons were her only salvation. For them, she would live again, for them she would take them from the death and dying in the city and give them a real life. A life that, in her heart, she had always wanted to give them. Life in the mountains, camping, fishing, running and playing in the tall grass catching fireflies at night and counting the stars that they could not see from their high rise apartment.
With their savings and what insurance monies were left, she found and purchased an old beaten castle in the heart of the North Country. She had lovingly spent two years renovating it into what is now known as the Wilmington Castle Bed and Breakfast.
The castle was in a total state of disarray. Abandoned years earlier after the fire, it needed everything, plumbing, electricity, flooring and a entirely new kitchen. Completing it with furnishings and linens alone cost her greatly. She scoured rummage sales and second hand shops for quaint pieces for furniture and wall hangings. The towns people, glad to have something finally done with the building, helped all they could.
Belle Weston, a surly old widow, had shown up one day armed with every cleaning product imaginable. Within minutes, the two became close friends. Between school and their activities, her sons spent what time they had doing what they could for their mother and her dream. Angela's funds dwindling, it was finally finished and open for business.
The van pulled into a clearing that was breathtaking. High on a mountain plateau, there stood the castle. It’s once over run grounds were now well manicured and boasted rose gardens and apple orchards and a cobblestone walkway leading through them. Rich green shrubbery lined the drive and front of the castle with tiny blood red berries glistening in the sun. The front of the dwelling was rather impressive with it’s gray stone face and over sized dual wooden doors with a black metal X across them. Steps leading to the great room were in a half circle, consisting of gray and black flat rocks, gave the impression of a ruffled collar at the neck. Two towers loomed. One faced the road and the driveway, the other, the rose gardens in the back.
She brought the car to a halt in the rear near the kitchen entrance. And was almost immediately joined by two young men. “We got these mom,” The elder of the two said, “Belle just made some of her fresh lemonade.” He nodded toward the plump graying woman standing in the doorway holding a pitcher of iced liquid.
Smiling at her sons, “Deal!” She waved at Belle and went to except the cool offering.
Jace, the elder son, grabbed the largest box from the cargo area of the van with ease. For his fifteen years, he was quite tall and muscular. He grinned at his little brother, “Think you can handle that one?” He seemed to point at a small box with his nose.
“I could handle both bro!” The shorter version of himself smiled.
Jace and Mica both had their mothers blond wavy hair and their fathers ice green eyes. That’s where the similarity ended. Jace Moore was tall, lean, muscular with a perfect nose and a long chin. His eleven year old brother was short for his age, a tad pudgy without being fat. Baby fat, his mother had called it. Mica was not remotely concerned about that. He had a long nose and a perfect cleft chin. For siblings, less than three years apart, they got on well.
Mica lifted his assigned box of farm fresh, green beans feigning struggle while his brother laughed at him. Mica Moore was the clown of the family. His humor was set forth by the untimely death of his father. He created voices and characters to make his mother and brother laugh. A trait he mastered, and mastered a bit too well, for the school teachers were not all that impressed.
Jace, on the other hand, ceased to be a child that day. He stood up as man of the house, ready to take on the role of helper, confidant and voice of reason. When his mother announced she was purchasing the castle, inwardly he screamed. It was a mess. He would have bet his last penny that the venture was soon to be a folly. Instead, he grinned at his mother, “Together, we can accomplish anything!” Words of his father that he now claimed as his own. Armed with a broom, hammer and shovel Jace took to the task, squelching any and all doubt, being pulled forward by his mothers enthusiasm and his brothers never ending humor.
The finished product could not have made mother or sons any happier or prouder. In fact, Jace found he had an knack for gardening, shocking the once city boy. He, with some advice from Belle and Bob McRyan, the local hardware store proprietor, he pruned the apple trees in the orchard, bring them back to life and even back to fruit bearing entities. His work on the rose gardens was equally successful. Once overridden with weeds an strangling vines, the fragrant blooms now were full and well groomed.
Mica was straining and groaning all the way into the large kitchen. He went as far as to ask his mother to help him lift the tiny box up on the stainless table.
Behind the humor, Mica held a deep rooted secret. One that came to fruition soon after his father died. He had told no one. His hearts desire was to be normal. Just a normal boy with friends that played baseball and hockey and trick or treated in the crisp Adirondack autumn. He would, he vowed, make it so. Besides, his mother and brother had enough to worry about, he could and would handle this.
“There’s three arriving tonight,” His mother was saying, “One of them is staying for a week.” She attempted a grin.
“Ugh!” Mica snorted.
“Mica!” Jace hissed.
His eyes twinkling, “Just think Jace, they get a whiff of moms cooking we’ll never get rid of them!”
The kitchen erupted in laughter. Angela hugged her son, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.
The four of them spent most of the day readying three rooms, cleaning and cooking. Jace took to the gardens while Mica set out to the great room. The room was oversized with a slick, black baby grand piano in one corner and a rich oak check-in desk at the other. Along the side wall was a fireplace that survived years of neglect after the fire. It now stood proud and tall, and freshly cleaned, occupying the entire wall except for the almost hidden doors to the atrium. Two over stuffed, hunter green sofas and two matching chairs sat around it, in the center was an antique sled acting as a coffee table, all sitting on a thick carpet with large pine cone print. Once the room was vacuumed, swept, dusted and fire wood was brought in, Mica moved to the dining room where Belle met him hurriedly with a tall glass of icy lemonade. He accepted graciously and continued his work.
The dining room opened into the great room through glass French doors. It consisted of eight round tables, each with eight high back oak chairs and hunter green chair padding. Two of the walls were stone, the other two likened the effect of a log cabin. Glass French doors at the opposite end opened to a ball room with white marble floors and a high domed ceiling. A butlers pantry lead to the large kitchen which had been completely modernized with mammoth silver refrigerators and long silver tables and stoves and ovens and deep fryer.
Mica dragged the heavy mop and pail into the kitchen.
“Done?” his mom smiled.
“Yeah, finally!” He ceremoniously wiped his brow with the back of his bare arm.
Laughing at her sons antics, “Alec called.” She tossed the beans she was cutting into a large colander. “I invited him and his brother over for the weekend. I hope that’s okay with you.” She grinned, trying not to look at her son.
“You sure mom?” disbelief
“Absolutely.” More beans were being trimmed. “I need help around here, but you still need to be a kid sweetie.” Her voice soft, “I expect you to help me tonight and tomorrow morning but other than that, have fun. With, of course, the exception of studying for your finals.”
Mica groaned.
Angela laughed.
He kissed his mom on the top of her head and announced he was going to shower. With a wave of his hands, he bound out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his rooms.
Mica’s rooms, as it were, consisted of three rooms, a bedroom, sitting room and bath. Unlike the rest of the castle, these rooms were done in ‘Mica’ style. His thick, oak king sized bed donned a New York Rangers comforter, a matching oak dresser sat along the far wall, the opposite wall boasted glass doors that lead to a stone balcony over looking the apple orchard, next to that was mid-sized cherry wood desk with a black cloth, high back chair. In the back center of his sitting room was a navy blue, clean but worn sofa, a matching chair and against on wall an entertainment center made of black iron and glass. A soft, older deep cream throw rug covered much of the hard wood floor.
Angela, believing she could handle ten guest rooms and divided most of the rest of the castle into the family rooms, including rooms for Belle for those very late work nights and even earlier work mornings. Her rooms, however could only be reached through the kitchen, thus no disruptions by the guests and it secured her privacy. These were, as near as Angela could figure, must have been servants quarters. Each was the same, bedroom, sitting and bath. At the end of each hall was a walk in linen closet that housed a vacuum and bed and bath linens.
Mica, stripped out of his clothes, leaving them at the foot of his bed, hopped into a cool shower. This life felt good. He was never “at home” in the city. There, he didn't really have friends, friends that would come to his house and watch movies or play video games. The city felt like an empty hole to home, something was missing, something wasn't ever quite right. He was immediately drawn to this place, this was home. It was, when his mother brought him and Jace to see it, calling to him in a way he could not explain. It needed him and he needed it.
He toweled off, and pulled on a clean pair of pants and a soft orange polo shirt. He combed his hair, brushed his teeth and even used a splash of Jace’s cologne that Jace had yet to find missing. He strode to the sitting room and was searching his DVD collection when the knock came at his door.
“” Come in!”!” He bellowed from the far room.
A tall, too thin boy with thick black hair entered the room.
“Hey Jesse!” Mica greeted.
Jesse McMurray was Mica’s best friend and, to their teachers, partner in their crimes. He had a long thin nose and matching chin that were overlooked by large, bright blue eyes and long, thick midnight black lashes.
In his wake stood a miniature of Jesse, his brother Alec. Alec, besides looking like his older brother, older by ten months, had nothing else in common. Alec was quiet, rarely spoke, got perfect grades in school and never, ever got into any sort of trouble. He was polite, courteous and, to Jesse’s horror, was adored by his teachers. Yet, despite all the differences between them, Jesse adored his brother, they were actually friends.
Jesse and Mica plopped on the couch together discussing their favorite subject, Danielle Richardson while Alec took up the task of searching
DVD’s.
Later, just before dinner was to be served, Angela introduced Mica and Jace to the guests.
First there were the Hendersons, a motley crew. Mr. Lloyd Henderson was a large man, though not very tall, portly with such a large chin, he seemed to have no neck. His belly, bulged to the point that his double breasted jacket couldn’t be buttoned and in wearing a suit in the hot June midday, he wheezed when he attempted to breathe. His wife, Ellen would have been an envy to any over paid model. She was tall, over six feet, slender with large blue doe eyes and waist length, thick, wavy auburn hair. Only a nudge in the ribs stopped Mica from gaping.
Then their was the La Bouche family. Gena and Edwin La Bouche looked more like twin Barbie and Ken dolls rather than a married couple. Both nicely tanned, tall, slender, ever smiling with pearl white teeth, red lips and blond hair, and as Mica noticed, perfectly manicured nails. Edwin had a genuine smile that reached his eyes. They were, as Mica noted, easily likable.
The third and final guest of the day were the Andersons. Max Anderson had bright red hair and overly long teeth. Yet a friendly sort with a firm shake and soft manner. Maggie Anderson was as friendly and warm as her husband, though not as good looking, if you could call Max good looking. She had greasy hair with lips that were too big and teeth that were too small. She had an annoying horse laugh and a too high pitched squeaky voice. Although thin, she was round in the belly. Her shoulder length, thin, mouse-brown hair gave her long face a horse-like look. Blue eyes barely peered through the heavy lids, looking more like two silts in her face rather than eyes at all.
Mica and Jesse showed the guests to their tables, while Jace played Chopin on the piano. Angela and Belle were busy in the kitchen with apple glazed, stuffed pork chops, mashed potatoes and gravy, buttered fresh beans with crusty French bread. Angela's key lime cheesecake was raved over. The guests held nothing but compliments over the food, hospitality and warmth of the Inn. Yes, the first night of business had begun.
After the dining room was cleared and cleaned they gathered in the kitchen for their dinner. Mica was caught trying to hide the last complete cheesecake under a dish towel by Belle, who told him that he did not need the whole pie, half should suffice. They chatted while they ate, discussing how well the first day had gone and upon finishing the last dish, they all went to bed. Belle decided to stay. It was late and she needed to be up before five in the morning to start breakfast. With a bear hug and a kiss atop all their heads, Belle bustled off up the back stairs.
Mica and his friends followed soon after her, Jesse carrying the left over cheesecake and three spoons.
When they spent the night, Mica and his friends liked to push back the sofa and lay out three deep gray sleeping bags in front of the television. Tonight was no different. Wordlessly, they worked together setting up their sleeping quarters, moving furniture and grabbing pillows from the bed and laying three sleeping bags side by side facing the television. They then sat in a small semi-circle on their make-shift bedding around the plate of cheesecake.
Mica, armed with a fork full of pie and the remote control, clicked the power switch as he chewed.
The darkened television sprang to life, with a woman sitting behind a desk. Her hair was pulled back tightly into a bun, making her look much older and quite stern. “… the state police say they have nothing to go on….” she was saying in a monotone voice.
Mica lifted the remote once again, “Wait!” Alec said pointing at the picture of a local business that was in a small box like screen behind the woman.
Mica lowered the remote and his jaw followed suit. “Isn’t that Bob’s Hardware Store?” He was now poking a chubby finger at the screen.
Jesse finally looked up from the now empty pie plate, “Yeah, it is. What the heck happened?”
Without taking their eyes from the television, Mica & Alec shrugged. The woman continued, “… the body was discovered by a customer earlier this evening. Neighbors describe Robert O’Ryan as ‘friendly, outgoing and an active member of his church and community.”
Another woman’s face donned the screen, the boys immediately recognized her as Anna Johnston. The elderly busy body in town. If anyone knew anything about everyone, she did. She was sobbing with flare into a small embroidered handkerchief, “He was such a good, sweet soul.” She dabbed in inner corners of her eyes, “I can’t for the life of me figure out why someone would do this!” Sobbing even louder, “It’s the junkies! It has to be! No one…” She was then cut off and the shot went back to the anchor woman who stoically continued.
“…. Police are saying there is no sign of forced entry or evidence of robbery. More at eleven…”
“I’ll bet you had a lot of news like that, living in the city Mica.” Alec turned to him, sadness filled his eyes, “This is our first. I mean, I knew Bob. Hell, we all knew Bob. We all know everyone. Things like this just don’t happen here.”
“It’s partly why my mom loves it here….” Mica’s voice trailed off as Alec stood and moved slowly to the window.
“Makes no sense.” He said staring out into the dimly lit grounds. They waited patiently for him to finish. They knew Alec, the boy with the genius mind and almost no social skills, would have some insight. After several long, silent moments, “He closes at nine at night. That’s why there was no break in. Bob had no family, no heirs and not a whole lot of money. No, what the perpetrator wanted was something other than money. He gave more away out of that store than he sold. He used to tell us that he can’t take it with him. Remember Jesse when he gave us all those nails and screws and ‘L’ joints for our tree house two years ago?” Jesse nodded silently. Alec paced for a minute, stopped in front of the DVD’s. Selecting one, he handed it to Mica, “The key to all of this is ‘Hardware Store’.”
I have one question. Where should this go first? An agent or a publisher? Okay two questions.... should I even bother? My son loves the Mica and Jace stories.... but...
The Death of a Salesman
Modern Day
The quarter mile drive was amazing. Pines, birch and weeping willows lined the road while a soft breeze swayed their branches. Birds of blues, yellows and reds sang songs in the high tops of the green trees as gray fox lumbered by. A doe stood ever so still, claiming invisibility beneath the shade of an oak as the dark blue mini van passed slowly. Once out of sight, she made her way carefully, ears on full alert, to the river only yards away.
Angela Moore drove squinting against the late morning sun, even though her dark sunglasses set upon the bridge of her nose. She was a lovely woman with long blond hair that was pulled back into a lose ponytail, stray tendrils clung to her face. She was raised in a town such as this one, a small, close knit community. Upon finishing college and marrying, she left the small village of Meco for the bright lights of New York City. Not her choice, her husbands business. She felt alive in returning to the green and sweet, crisp smells of the mountains while forsaking the stark metal and steel of the big city. Though, she’d even give all of this up to have her husband back.
Angela met Al Moore at a college fraternity party. She was in a culinary arts school and catering the event, and he was one of the fraternity men. Their chance meeting came when she, ever so ungracefully, dumped a tray of chicken wrapped lobster tails on his starched, white shirt. She turned a deep shade of red and bolted for the comfort of the kitchen, with, to her horror, Albert Moore directly behind her, laughing. He had a wonderful, infectious laugh. That only made his stunning ice green eyes sparkle that much more. He finally convinced her to accompany him to dinner. He had to have her after that. He needed to spend his life with her, spoil her, love her, always. It took months of convincing, but she finally gave in. They were married in the rose garden of his aunts, in a quiet ceremony. Shortly after, he landed a job on Wall Street. So, she smiled and followed.
It was a good marriage. Much love, laughter and two wonderful sons. Even though she hated city life, she loved her small piece of it. Her family. That is, until the day the policemen graced her doorstep with news that broke her heart forever. Her beloved had been killed. She remembered that day. The day she fell to the floor, the day she humbled herself before those policemen, her neighbors, her children and God.
Angela, sullenly went to the wake and funeral and somehow survived the many guests that filled her home with flowers and food. Her sons were her only salvation. For them, she would live again, for them she would take them from the death and dying in the city and give them a real life. A life that, in her heart, she had always wanted to give them. Life in the mountains, camping, fishing, running and playing in the tall grass catching fireflies at night and counting the stars that they could not see from their high rise apartment.
With their savings and what insurance monies were left, she found and purchased an old beaten castle in the heart of the North Country. She had lovingly spent two years renovating it into what is now known as the Wilmington Castle Bed and Breakfast.
The castle was in a total state of disarray. Abandoned years earlier after the fire, it needed everything, plumbing, electricity, flooring and a entirely new kitchen. Completing it with furnishings and linens alone cost her greatly. She scoured rummage sales and second hand shops for quaint pieces for furniture and wall hangings. The towns people, glad to have something finally done with the building, helped all they could.
Belle Weston, a surly old widow, had shown up one day armed with every cleaning product imaginable. Within minutes, the two became close friends. Between school and their activities, her sons spent what time they had doing what they could for their mother and her dream. Angela's funds dwindling, it was finally finished and open for business.
The van pulled into a clearing that was breathtaking. High on a mountain plateau, there stood the castle. It’s once over run grounds were now well manicured and boasted rose gardens and apple orchards and a cobblestone walkway leading through them. Rich green shrubbery lined the drive and front of the castle with tiny blood red berries glistening in the sun. The front of the dwelling was rather impressive with it’s gray stone face and over sized dual wooden doors with a black metal X across them. Steps leading to the great room were in a half circle, consisting of gray and black flat rocks, gave the impression of a ruffled collar at the neck. Two towers loomed. One faced the road and the driveway, the other, the rose gardens in the back.
She brought the car to a halt in the rear near the kitchen entrance. And was almost immediately joined by two young men. “We got these mom,” The elder of the two said, “Belle just made some of her fresh lemonade.” He nodded toward the plump graying woman standing in the doorway holding a pitcher of iced liquid.
Smiling at her sons, “Deal!” She waved at Belle and went to except the cool offering.
Jace, the elder son, grabbed the largest box from the cargo area of the van with ease. For his fifteen years, he was quite tall and muscular. He grinned at his little brother, “Think you can handle that one?” He seemed to point at a small box with his nose.
“I could handle both bro!” The shorter version of himself smiled.
Jace and Mica both had their mothers blond wavy hair and their fathers ice green eyes. That’s where the similarity ended. Jace Moore was tall, lean, muscular with a perfect nose and a long chin. His eleven year old brother was short for his age, a tad pudgy without being fat. Baby fat, his mother had called it. Mica was not remotely concerned about that. He had a long nose and a perfect cleft chin. For siblings, less than three years apart, they got on well.
Mica lifted his assigned box of farm fresh, green beans feigning struggle while his brother laughed at him. Mica Moore was the clown of the family. His humor was set forth by the untimely death of his father. He created voices and characters to make his mother and brother laugh. A trait he mastered, and mastered a bit too well, for the school teachers were not all that impressed.
Jace, on the other hand, ceased to be a child that day. He stood up as man of the house, ready to take on the role of helper, confidant and voice of reason. When his mother announced she was purchasing the castle, inwardly he screamed. It was a mess. He would have bet his last penny that the venture was soon to be a folly. Instead, he grinned at his mother, “Together, we can accomplish anything!” Words of his father that he now claimed as his own. Armed with a broom, hammer and shovel Jace took to the task, squelching any and all doubt, being pulled forward by his mothers enthusiasm and his brothers never ending humor.
The finished product could not have made mother or sons any happier or prouder. In fact, Jace found he had an knack for gardening, shocking the once city boy. He, with some advice from Belle and Bob McRyan, the local hardware store proprietor, he pruned the apple trees in the orchard, bring them back to life and even back to fruit bearing entities. His work on the rose gardens was equally successful. Once overridden with weeds an strangling vines, the fragrant blooms now were full and well groomed.
Mica was straining and groaning all the way into the large kitchen. He went as far as to ask his mother to help him lift the tiny box up on the stainless table.
Behind the humor, Mica held a deep rooted secret. One that came to fruition soon after his father died. He had told no one. His hearts desire was to be normal. Just a normal boy with friends that played baseball and hockey and trick or treated in the crisp Adirondack autumn. He would, he vowed, make it so. Besides, his mother and brother had enough to worry about, he could and would handle this.
“There’s three arriving tonight,” His mother was saying, “One of them is staying for a week.” She attempted a grin.
“Ugh!” Mica snorted.
“Mica!” Jace hissed.
His eyes twinkling, “Just think Jace, they get a whiff of moms cooking we’ll never get rid of them!”
The kitchen erupted in laughter. Angela hugged her son, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world.
The four of them spent most of the day readying three rooms, cleaning and cooking. Jace took to the gardens while Mica set out to the great room. The room was oversized with a slick, black baby grand piano in one corner and a rich oak check-in desk at the other. Along the side wall was a fireplace that survived years of neglect after the fire. It now stood proud and tall, and freshly cleaned, occupying the entire wall except for the almost hidden doors to the atrium. Two over stuffed, hunter green sofas and two matching chairs sat around it, in the center was an antique sled acting as a coffee table, all sitting on a thick carpet with large pine cone print. Once the room was vacuumed, swept, dusted and fire wood was brought in, Mica moved to the dining room where Belle met him hurriedly with a tall glass of icy lemonade. He accepted graciously and continued his work.
The dining room opened into the great room through glass French doors. It consisted of eight round tables, each with eight high back oak chairs and hunter green chair padding. Two of the walls were stone, the other two likened the effect of a log cabin. Glass French doors at the opposite end opened to a ball room with white marble floors and a high domed ceiling. A butlers pantry lead to the large kitchen which had been completely modernized with mammoth silver refrigerators and long silver tables and stoves and ovens and deep fryer.
Mica dragged the heavy mop and pail into the kitchen.
“Done?” his mom smiled.
“Yeah, finally!” He ceremoniously wiped his brow with the back of his bare arm.
Laughing at her sons antics, “Alec called.” She tossed the beans she was cutting into a large colander. “I invited him and his brother over for the weekend. I hope that’s okay with you.” She grinned, trying not to look at her son.
“You sure mom?” disbelief
“Absolutely.” More beans were being trimmed. “I need help around here, but you still need to be a kid sweetie.” Her voice soft, “I expect you to help me tonight and tomorrow morning but other than that, have fun. With, of course, the exception of studying for your finals.”
Mica groaned.
Angela laughed.
He kissed his mom on the top of her head and announced he was going to shower. With a wave of his hands, he bound out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his rooms.
Mica’s rooms, as it were, consisted of three rooms, a bedroom, sitting room and bath. Unlike the rest of the castle, these rooms were done in ‘Mica’ style. His thick, oak king sized bed donned a New York Rangers comforter, a matching oak dresser sat along the far wall, the opposite wall boasted glass doors that lead to a stone balcony over looking the apple orchard, next to that was mid-sized cherry wood desk with a black cloth, high back chair. In the back center of his sitting room was a navy blue, clean but worn sofa, a matching chair and against on wall an entertainment center made of black iron and glass. A soft, older deep cream throw rug covered much of the hard wood floor.
Angela, believing she could handle ten guest rooms and divided most of the rest of the castle into the family rooms, including rooms for Belle for those very late work nights and even earlier work mornings. Her rooms, however could only be reached through the kitchen, thus no disruptions by the guests and it secured her privacy. These were, as near as Angela could figure, must have been servants quarters. Each was the same, bedroom, sitting and bath. At the end of each hall was a walk in linen closet that housed a vacuum and bed and bath linens.
Mica, stripped out of his clothes, leaving them at the foot of his bed, hopped into a cool shower. This life felt good. He was never “at home” in the city. There, he didn't really have friends, friends that would come to his house and watch movies or play video games. The city felt like an empty hole to home, something was missing, something wasn't ever quite right. He was immediately drawn to this place, this was home. It was, when his mother brought him and Jace to see it, calling to him in a way he could not explain. It needed him and he needed it.
He toweled off, and pulled on a clean pair of pants and a soft orange polo shirt. He combed his hair, brushed his teeth and even used a splash of Jace’s cologne that Jace had yet to find missing. He strode to the sitting room and was searching his DVD collection when the knock came at his door.
“” Come in!”!” He bellowed from the far room.
A tall, too thin boy with thick black hair entered the room.
“Hey Jesse!” Mica greeted.
Jesse McMurray was Mica’s best friend and, to their teachers, partner in their crimes. He had a long thin nose and matching chin that were overlooked by large, bright blue eyes and long, thick midnight black lashes.
In his wake stood a miniature of Jesse, his brother Alec. Alec, besides looking like his older brother, older by ten months, had nothing else in common. Alec was quiet, rarely spoke, got perfect grades in school and never, ever got into any sort of trouble. He was polite, courteous and, to Jesse’s horror, was adored by his teachers. Yet, despite all the differences between them, Jesse adored his brother, they were actually friends.
Jesse and Mica plopped on the couch together discussing their favorite subject, Danielle Richardson while Alec took up the task of searching
DVD’s.
Later, just before dinner was to be served, Angela introduced Mica and Jace to the guests.
First there were the Hendersons, a motley crew. Mr. Lloyd Henderson was a large man, though not very tall, portly with such a large chin, he seemed to have no neck. His belly, bulged to the point that his double breasted jacket couldn’t be buttoned and in wearing a suit in the hot June midday, he wheezed when he attempted to breathe. His wife, Ellen would have been an envy to any over paid model. She was tall, over six feet, slender with large blue doe eyes and waist length, thick, wavy auburn hair. Only a nudge in the ribs stopped Mica from gaping.
Then their was the La Bouche family. Gena and Edwin La Bouche looked more like twin Barbie and Ken dolls rather than a married couple. Both nicely tanned, tall, slender, ever smiling with pearl white teeth, red lips and blond hair, and as Mica noticed, perfectly manicured nails. Edwin had a genuine smile that reached his eyes. They were, as Mica noted, easily likable.
The third and final guest of the day were the Andersons. Max Anderson had bright red hair and overly long teeth. Yet a friendly sort with a firm shake and soft manner. Maggie Anderson was as friendly and warm as her husband, though not as good looking, if you could call Max good looking. She had greasy hair with lips that were too big and teeth that were too small. She had an annoying horse laugh and a too high pitched squeaky voice. Although thin, she was round in the belly. Her shoulder length, thin, mouse-brown hair gave her long face a horse-like look. Blue eyes barely peered through the heavy lids, looking more like two silts in her face rather than eyes at all.
Mica and Jesse showed the guests to their tables, while Jace played Chopin on the piano. Angela and Belle were busy in the kitchen with apple glazed, stuffed pork chops, mashed potatoes and gravy, buttered fresh beans with crusty French bread. Angela's key lime cheesecake was raved over. The guests held nothing but compliments over the food, hospitality and warmth of the Inn. Yes, the first night of business had begun.
After the dining room was cleared and cleaned they gathered in the kitchen for their dinner. Mica was caught trying to hide the last complete cheesecake under a dish towel by Belle, who told him that he did not need the whole pie, half should suffice. They chatted while they ate, discussing how well the first day had gone and upon finishing the last dish, they all went to bed. Belle decided to stay. It was late and she needed to be up before five in the morning to start breakfast. With a bear hug and a kiss atop all their heads, Belle bustled off up the back stairs.
Mica and his friends followed soon after her, Jesse carrying the left over cheesecake and three spoons.
When they spent the night, Mica and his friends liked to push back the sofa and lay out three deep gray sleeping bags in front of the television. Tonight was no different. Wordlessly, they worked together setting up their sleeping quarters, moving furniture and grabbing pillows from the bed and laying three sleeping bags side by side facing the television. They then sat in a small semi-circle on their make-shift bedding around the plate of cheesecake.
Mica, armed with a fork full of pie and the remote control, clicked the power switch as he chewed.
The darkened television sprang to life, with a woman sitting behind a desk. Her hair was pulled back tightly into a bun, making her look much older and quite stern. “… the state police say they have nothing to go on….” she was saying in a monotone voice.
Mica lifted the remote once again, “Wait!” Alec said pointing at the picture of a local business that was in a small box like screen behind the woman.
Mica lowered the remote and his jaw followed suit. “Isn’t that Bob’s Hardware Store?” He was now poking a chubby finger at the screen.
Jesse finally looked up from the now empty pie plate, “Yeah, it is. What the heck happened?”
Without taking their eyes from the television, Mica & Alec shrugged. The woman continued, “… the body was discovered by a customer earlier this evening. Neighbors describe Robert O’Ryan as ‘friendly, outgoing and an active member of his church and community.”
Another woman’s face donned the screen, the boys immediately recognized her as Anna Johnston. The elderly busy body in town. If anyone knew anything about everyone, she did. She was sobbing with flare into a small embroidered handkerchief, “He was such a good, sweet soul.” She dabbed in inner corners of her eyes, “I can’t for the life of me figure out why someone would do this!” Sobbing even louder, “It’s the junkies! It has to be! No one…” She was then cut off and the shot went back to the anchor woman who stoically continued.
“…. Police are saying there is no sign of forced entry or evidence of robbery. More at eleven…”
“I’ll bet you had a lot of news like that, living in the city Mica.” Alec turned to him, sadness filled his eyes, “This is our first. I mean, I knew Bob. Hell, we all knew Bob. We all know everyone. Things like this just don’t happen here.”
“It’s partly why my mom loves it here….” Mica’s voice trailed off as Alec stood and moved slowly to the window.
“Makes no sense.” He said staring out into the dimly lit grounds. They waited patiently for him to finish. They knew Alec, the boy with the genius mind and almost no social skills, would have some insight. After several long, silent moments, “He closes at nine at night. That’s why there was no break in. Bob had no family, no heirs and not a whole lot of money. No, what the perpetrator wanted was something other than money. He gave more away out of that store than he sold. He used to tell us that he can’t take it with him. Remember Jesse when he gave us all those nails and screws and ‘L’ joints for our tree house two years ago?” Jesse nodded silently. Alec paced for a minute, stopped in front of the DVD’s. Selecting one, he handed it to Mica, “The key to all of this is ‘Hardware Store’.”
I have one question. Where should this go first? An agent or a publisher? Okay two questions.... should I even bother? My son loves the Mica and Jace stories.... but...
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
The Prologue - as Promised
First, thank you all so much for your support and encouragement. You are simply the best, thank you!
This is just the prologue. (I think I got a little adjective happy.) It sets up the scenario for what becomes of the man and his house - eighty years later. I'm still working on a name for it.
Well... here it is. Let me know what you think. Be brutal!
ps: If they do publish it, yes Pam, you and anyone else here can have a signed copy.
Prologue
November 1929
Snow fell softly over the once lush, green mountain where a single structure stood. A mansion boasting wealth and the spoils of the industrial revolution. The mammoth structure of stone and pine loomed like a fish out of water in the green, unspoiled wilderness of the Adirondacks. Five stories high and dressed with rose gardens and apple orchards, a great hall, atrium and over sized ballroom with white marble floors that could and would be used for entertaining his wealthy friends.
He poured a fine, expensive bourbon into his cut crystal goblet, a sinister smile crossed his lips as he pressed the glass against them and drank heavily. Zacharias Perry was a young, good looking man. He had thick black hair that hung just below his collar and deep ebony eyes that sat almost too close together. He was tall, arrogant, lazy and coddled by an adoring mother. He had never worked, only lived of the labors of his ailing father. His father, Harlan Perry was a self made man. He lived and breathed the steel industry, unlike his son, who lived for his mothers generosity and his sole goal in life was to out-do his friends in every way.
From his perch in the high corner suite he could see the long, thin road leading to the mansion. He watched as tiny lights grew nearer. Smiling, he poured himself another helping of fine whiskey and downed the glass.
His stage was set. He had the finest wines from Italy, the finest chef's the finest tableware, the grandest mansion and the most interesting plan. History, he knew, would not see him as the courageous man that he was. It would see him as a man with money, amidst tragedy. He carried out his plan to the fullest detail. His parties were world famous, the most prestigious begged and hoped for an invitation. He knew, none would turn his down. He had planned on that and chose his guest list well. Zacharias was not a man to be reckoned with. He was almost evil when crossed. It is safe to say that one rarely got on his bad side. He had a way of destroying everything in his path, solely at his will. His friends, therefore were not quite his friends. They were the up and coming rich and in needing to be noticed in the right circles, Zacharias Perry was the man to know.
His own parents were not the party set. They were happy to just be together, travel together and other people detracted from that. Harlan and Eleanor Perry were the beloved of the business world. They rarely spoke an unkind word, treated their employees well and lived a life together in happiness. The one true event they always gave was their annual Christmas party. And one true event they always attended was the Christmas party they threw for the employees and their families of Perry Steel. They would lavishly decorate the ballroom of their home, fill the tables with food and the brightly lit tree held hand selected gifts for all. Harlan and Eleanor Perry vowed to never forget where they came from, and they never did. They enjoyed the riches they worked so hard for and yet, in remembering the mean, cold streets of Chicago, growing up poor, they cared deeply for the plant workers and their families. Never, did they forget a birthday, a birth, a death. Yes, the Perry's were adored by all, except one. Their one and only son.
Zacharias was mollycoddled by his over adoring mother. His every wish was always granted and his need for money never became a want, it was given. Unlike his parents, he had no idea of being poor, neither did he hold any respect or care for anyone - other than himself.
As the lights and the rumbling of the automobiles drew nearer, he downed his third whiskey. He crossed the large room with it's perfectly polished hard wood floors and thick four-poster bed. He pulled on his tailored jacked and glancing into the mirror, straightened his collar. He smiled at his reflection. Perfect. Everything was perfect. His stage was set. With vigor, he pulled open the door and moved into the hallway, closing the door on what was left of his sanity behind him.
Several hours later, after the last had gone to bed, she moved carefully, deliberately through the new fallen snow, making her way to the apple orchard. In her arms rested a sleeping baby wrapped in a warm blanket and stuffed into a small wicker basket. She glanced back at the mansion. Then, continued. The orchard was not enough, it was the tree, the one specific tree she searched for. She spotted the markings at last. She walked to the sapling and placed the babe, basket and all beneath it. With a shiver, she kissed her fingers before placing them on the tree. "Mon ami" she said. Without another glance she turned and hurried back into the burning building.
This is just the prologue. (I think I got a little adjective happy.) It sets up the scenario for what becomes of the man and his house - eighty years later. I'm still working on a name for it.
Well... here it is. Let me know what you think. Be brutal!
ps: If they do publish it, yes Pam, you and anyone else here can have a signed copy.
Prologue
November 1929
Snow fell softly over the once lush, green mountain where a single structure stood. A mansion boasting wealth and the spoils of the industrial revolution. The mammoth structure of stone and pine loomed like a fish out of water in the green, unspoiled wilderness of the Adirondacks. Five stories high and dressed with rose gardens and apple orchards, a great hall, atrium and over sized ballroom with white marble floors that could and would be used for entertaining his wealthy friends.
He poured a fine, expensive bourbon into his cut crystal goblet, a sinister smile crossed his lips as he pressed the glass against them and drank heavily. Zacharias Perry was a young, good looking man. He had thick black hair that hung just below his collar and deep ebony eyes that sat almost too close together. He was tall, arrogant, lazy and coddled by an adoring mother. He had never worked, only lived of the labors of his ailing father. His father, Harlan Perry was a self made man. He lived and breathed the steel industry, unlike his son, who lived for his mothers generosity and his sole goal in life was to out-do his friends in every way.
From his perch in the high corner suite he could see the long, thin road leading to the mansion. He watched as tiny lights grew nearer. Smiling, he poured himself another helping of fine whiskey and downed the glass.
His stage was set. He had the finest wines from Italy, the finest chef's the finest tableware, the grandest mansion and the most interesting plan. History, he knew, would not see him as the courageous man that he was. It would see him as a man with money, amidst tragedy. He carried out his plan to the fullest detail. His parties were world famous, the most prestigious begged and hoped for an invitation. He knew, none would turn his down. He had planned on that and chose his guest list well. Zacharias was not a man to be reckoned with. He was almost evil when crossed. It is safe to say that one rarely got on his bad side. He had a way of destroying everything in his path, solely at his will. His friends, therefore were not quite his friends. They were the up and coming rich and in needing to be noticed in the right circles, Zacharias Perry was the man to know.
His own parents were not the party set. They were happy to just be together, travel together and other people detracted from that. Harlan and Eleanor Perry were the beloved of the business world. They rarely spoke an unkind word, treated their employees well and lived a life together in happiness. The one true event they always gave was their annual Christmas party. And one true event they always attended was the Christmas party they threw for the employees and their families of Perry Steel. They would lavishly decorate the ballroom of their home, fill the tables with food and the brightly lit tree held hand selected gifts for all. Harlan and Eleanor Perry vowed to never forget where they came from, and they never did. They enjoyed the riches they worked so hard for and yet, in remembering the mean, cold streets of Chicago, growing up poor, they cared deeply for the plant workers and their families. Never, did they forget a birthday, a birth, a death. Yes, the Perry's were adored by all, except one. Their one and only son.
Zacharias was mollycoddled by his over adoring mother. His every wish was always granted and his need for money never became a want, it was given. Unlike his parents, he had no idea of being poor, neither did he hold any respect or care for anyone - other than himself.
As the lights and the rumbling of the automobiles drew nearer, he downed his third whiskey. He crossed the large room with it's perfectly polished hard wood floors and thick four-poster bed. He pulled on his tailored jacked and glancing into the mirror, straightened his collar. He smiled at his reflection. Perfect. Everything was perfect. His stage was set. With vigor, he pulled open the door and moved into the hallway, closing the door on what was left of his sanity behind him.
Several hours later, after the last had gone to bed, she moved carefully, deliberately through the new fallen snow, making her way to the apple orchard. In her arms rested a sleeping baby wrapped in a warm blanket and stuffed into a small wicker basket. She glanced back at the mansion. Then, continued. The orchard was not enough, it was the tree, the one specific tree she searched for. She spotted the markings at last. She walked to the sapling and placed the babe, basket and all beneath it. With a shiver, she kissed her fingers before placing them on the tree. "Mon ami" she said. Without another glance she turned and hurried back into the burning building.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Blame Qwest and Andy
Internet issues and a commitment to finish my book are keeping me from blogging lately. For this, I apologize.
The up-side to my dilemma, is that I may finally finish my first full length novel. I actually started it twenty years ago, it was a story that, in chapters, I told my kids at bedtime. My youngest (and my retirement plan..) conned (and I DO mean conned) me into putting it on paper.
As an artist, I am my own worst and harshest critic. I have been working on this manuscript for almost a year. I have re-written several parts, several times. My son and his friends have backed me into a corner - so to speak. I will finish this. Well, I will or I'll have to buy lunch. If you know any 21 year old men, you'd know that a lottery winner would have issues buying for these big eaters... so, I shall finish.
I actually thought of posting the prologue for some honest critiques from some great people that I trust (you - not to put too fine a point on it.) It's a scary-ish ghost story geared at 12 to 14 year olds.
Any thoughts?
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Criminals in the Office
Who would have ever thought that one, we would have a President who is a criminal and two, that nobody in the United States seems to care.
There are those who choose to apologize and forgive this corrupt, inept and criminally incompetent administration, but then there are those who watch the criminal activity of this administration and just shrug. Why?
The Democrats and Republicans better bring this administration to justice.
On May 15th, James Comey testified about the NSA wiretapping program and what he said was quite disturbing.
President Bush ordered the NSA to engage in warrant less eavesdropping back in October 2001. The incidents, which Comey described yesterday -- whereby the DOJ refused to certify the program's legality -- occurred in March 2004, two-and-a-half years later. Since the NSA was spying on Americans the Federal court that ruled on this matter has concluded that the NSA program violated both federal law and the U.S. Constitution.
Once Bush knew that both Aschcroft and Comey believed the eavesdropping was illegal, he ordered it to continue anyway.
“In the early part of 2004, the Department of Justice was engaged -- the Office of Legal Counsel, under my supervision -- in a reevaluation both factually and legally of a particular classified program. And it was a program that was renewed on a regular basis, and required signature by the attorney general certifying to its legality.
And the -- and I remember the precise date. The program had to be renewed by March the 11th, which was a Thursday, of 2004. And we were engaged in a very intensive reevaluation of the matter.”
Comey then made clear that he and Ashcroft met, determined that the NSA program lacked legal authority, and agreed that the DOJ would refuse to certify the legality of the NSA program. Yet even once Ashcroft and Comey made clear that the program had no legal basis, the President ordered it to continue anyway. As Comey said: "The program was reauthorized without us and without a signature from the Department of Justice attesting as to its legality."
The President's own political appointees -- the two top Justice Department officials, including Ashcroft were so convinced of its illegality that they refused to certify it and “were preparing, along with numerous other top DOJ officials, to resign en masse” once they learned that the program would continue even though the President knew it was illegal.
It is clear that the President deliberately violated the law and committed multiple felonies by eavesdropping on Americans in violation of the law.
When The Whitehouse realized Comey and Ashcroft were not going to authorize the continuation of the NSA program ( the spying on America illegally), Gonzales and Andrew Card tried to get Ashcroft’s signature while he was hospitalized and incoherent after surgery. Nice.
What prompted the DOJ suddenly to "reexamine" the legality of the program after all that time?
If the Justice Department and Federal court says the program is illegal, isn’t that convincing enough?
Why is impeachment “off the table” as one Democrat put it?
Cheney and Bush have blatantly violated the laws of the United States and violated the Constitution that both took vows to uphold.
They deserve impeachment. We owe it to ourselves, the world and future generations of Americans who face Presidents who abuse their power and ignore and even break the law.
Let’s put the impeachment option back” on the table.”
The Washington Post Editorial Board (Hardly "Liberal" media) said:
" this is an account of Bush administration lawlessness so shocking it would have been unbelievable coming from a less reputable source." And as I documented yesterday, these "shocking" revelations were long concealed due to Alberto Gonzales' patently false assurances that the testimony of Comey and Ashcroft -- which Democrats on the Senate Judiciary Committee sought last year -- would not "add to the discussion.
The above was written on May 16th by Andre Hernandez . I don't believe I could have said it better myself.
There are those who choose to apologize and forgive this corrupt, inept and criminally incompetent administration, but then there are those who watch the criminal activity of this administration and just shrug. Why?
The Democrats and Republicans better bring this administration to justice.
On May 15th, James Comey testified about the NSA wiretapping program and what he said was quite disturbing.
President Bush ordered the NSA to engage in warrant less eavesdropping back in October 2001. The incidents, which Comey described yesterday -- whereby the DOJ refused to certify the program's legality -- occurred in March 2004, two-and-a-half years later. Since the NSA was spying on Americans the Federal court that ruled on this matter has concluded that the NSA program violated both federal law and the U.S. Constitution.
Once Bush knew that both Aschcroft and Comey believed the eavesdropping was illegal, he ordered it to continue anyway.
“In the early part of 2004, the Department of Justice was engaged -- the Office of Legal Counsel, under my supervision -- in a reevaluation both factually and legally of a particular classified program. And it was a program that was renewed on a regular basis, and required signature by the attorney general certifying to its legality.
And the -- and I remember the precise date. The program had to be renewed by March the 11th, which was a Thursday, of 2004. And we were engaged in a very intensive reevaluation of the matter.”
Comey then made clear that he and Ashcroft met, determined that the NSA program lacked legal authority, and agreed that the DOJ would refuse to certify the legality of the NSA program. Yet even once Ashcroft and Comey made clear that the program had no legal basis, the President ordered it to continue anyway. As Comey said: "The program was reauthorized without us and without a signature from the Department of Justice attesting as to its legality."
The President's own political appointees -- the two top Justice Department officials, including Ashcroft were so convinced of its illegality that they refused to certify it and “were preparing, along with numerous other top DOJ officials, to resign en masse” once they learned that the program would continue even though the President knew it was illegal.
It is clear that the President deliberately violated the law and committed multiple felonies by eavesdropping on Americans in violation of the law.
When The Whitehouse realized Comey and Ashcroft were not going to authorize the continuation of the NSA program ( the spying on America illegally), Gonzales and Andrew Card tried to get Ashcroft’s signature while he was hospitalized and incoherent after surgery. Nice.
What prompted the DOJ suddenly to "reexamine" the legality of the program after all that time?
If the Justice Department and Federal court says the program is illegal, isn’t that convincing enough?
Why is impeachment “off the table” as one Democrat put it?
Cheney and Bush have blatantly violated the laws of the United States and violated the Constitution that both took vows to uphold.
They deserve impeachment. We owe it to ourselves, the world and future generations of Americans who face Presidents who abuse their power and ignore and even break the law.
Let’s put the impeachment option back” on the table.”
The Washington Post Editorial Board (Hardly "Liberal" media) said:
" this is an account of Bush administration lawlessness so shocking it would have been unbelievable coming from a less reputable source." And as I documented yesterday, these "shocking" revelations were long concealed due to Alberto Gonzales' patently false assurances that the testimony of Comey and Ashcroft -- which Democrats on the Senate Judiciary Committee sought last year -- would not "add to the discussion.
The above was written on May 16th by Andre Hernandez . I don't believe I could have said it better myself.
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