Permanent Politicians

“One hundred and seventy-three despots would surely be as oppressive as one.”

James Madison

Federalist No. 48, February 1, 1788

During the Constitutional Convention, Mr. James Jackson, Georgia, arguing against the need for a Bill of Rights said, “Do we not return at the expiration of two years into private life? And is not this a security against encroachments?” Jackson felt since public service was only a two year job, it was unnecessary to have a Bill of Rights protecting citizens against government. What is government today becomes citizen tomorrow. I say Jackson had it right. If our elected rulers had to deal in private life, with the laws they impose, the laws would be better. Too many politicians subjugate national good for political expediency. If they were returning to private life soon, they would not be vulnerable to threats of losing their cushy committee seat; they are going to lose it anyway.

 The issue of term limits for our Congressmen has surfaced from time to time but seems to always quietly disappear. Many states have term limits for their politicians. Terms limits for the President of the United States were established by Section 1 of the Twenty Second Amendment to the constitution.

The very people who would be limited by term limits are the ones we have been relying upon to implement the limitations. This seems a blueprint for failure. Several states tried to invoke their Tenth Amendment right and set their own term limits for their Federal representatives. In the1995 case, U.S. Term Limits, Inc. v. Thornton, the United States Supreme Court ruled Arkansas did not have the authority to set qualifications for their Federal representatives different from what was in the Constitution. Justice Clarence Thomas, referring to the Tenth Amendment, wrote the opinion for the minority stating:

“Nothing in the Constitution deprives the people of each State of the power to prescribe eligibility requirements for the candidates who seek to represent them in Congress. The Constitution is simply silent on this question. And where the Constitution is silent, it raises no bar to action by the States or the people.”

If the Constitution is silent on an issue, the United States government has no authority to regulate the states.

Corrupt politicians have one thing in common and it is not party affiliation. The one thing they have in common is seniority. They have been hanging around the halls of Congress for many, many years; too many. The longer a politician resides in Washington, the less responsive he/she is to the citizenry. The founding fathers envisioned a citizen government, not a semi-permanent ruling class.

What are we to do? Our Congress seems unwilling to limit their terms. Our Supreme Court will not allow a state to impose term limits on their representatives. Where do we turn?

There is a legal and constitutional way we can impose term limits without getting the permission of Congress, the Supreme Court or the President of the United States. Article V. of the Constitution allows for the passing of an Amendment without the need of Congress.

“…the Application of the Legislatures of two thirds of the several States, shall call a Convention for proposing Amendments, which…, shall be valid to all Intents and Purposes, as Part of this Constitution, when ratified by …Conventions in three fourths thereof.”

Two thirds of the states can call for a Constitutional Convention and pass Amendments with approval by three fourths of the state delegations; no Congress, no President, no Supreme Court.

I say we have a convention, pass a term limit amendment to the Constitution and let the elected rulers squeal. Let’s have it in Kansas City; I am tired of pork, but I like a good steak.

Randy Russ
www,randyruss,com

You Don't Want To Wag The Tail

If The Tail Ain’t Wagging Itself

Being a dog lover, I always owned a dog, or perhaps the dog owned me. Dogs are loyal and give unconditional love. Your wife and kids will get angry, or in my case, embarrassed, by you from time to time, but a dog will always be happy to see you. If you go away for a day or two, the dog will miss you.

I don’t hate cats; I don’t wish ill upon them, I just wish they would not put their paw prints all over my newly washed car. A cat is not happy to see you when you return from a trip. They will show mild interest if you have food. A dog will run up to you, food or not.

It is amazing I like dogs so much because my older sisters nearly ruined it for me when I was a child. When I was 12 inches in diameter I had a life changing experience. Does it seem odd I measured my age as a child in inches of diameter instead of in years? It is odd and indicative of the weirdness of the story.

When I was 12 inches in diameter, we had a nice Heinz 57 family mutt with characteristics of multiple breeds. One day, our mutt was missing. Four days later, we noticed a foul smell emanating from the culvert under the driveway. A brief investigation revealed the old dog crawled into the middle of this culvert and died.

Living in the country, it fell upon us to do our own animal removal. The culvert was small, just a little larger than… you guessed it, me. My sisters suggested I crawl in and pull out the dog. Aren’t sisters wonderful? They decided I should crawl in with a rope, put it around the animal, and my dad and my brother would pull him out. Sounds like a good plan doesn’t it? It turned out to be good for everyone but me.

They fastened a handkerchief, soaked with my sister’s perfume, over my mouth and nose, slapped me on the back for good luck, and sent me into no man’s land. What a loving family. I entered head first, my hands extended above my head with rope in tow. Before getting too far, I quickly realized the culvert was too narrow for rope work. After retreating, my sisters informed me of Plan B.

Plan B required I tie the rope around my waist and grab the dog’s tail. My loving family would pull both of us out. I went once more into the breach and inched my way to the middle of the culvert. (Why did she have to crawl into the middle of the culvert?) When I reached the dog I grabbed her tail, but it started to wag. Hey, what’s this! She’s not dead after all, her tail wagged. Shortly, I realized the dog was not wagging her tail, I was! It broke off in my hand! Believe me when I say, you don’t want to wag the tail if the tail ain’t wagging itself.

I unleashed a primordial scream, scaring my support staff standing above me in the fresh air. The handkerchief fell off my face when I realized I was not the only thing alive in the culvert. My loving family began to furiously pull on the rope. Of course, I got stuck. Going in frontward dragging the rope was difficult, coming out backward was nigh impossible. Finally after fifteen hours if you ask me, fifteen minutes if you ask my beloved sisters, I made it to daylight. You would think my oldest sister admired me for my effort, but you would be wrong. She wanted me to go back for her handkerchief.

So, it is astonishing I love dogs so much today, but I don’t care much for handkerchiefs.

Randy Russ
http://www.randyruss.com/

A Baseball Miracle

On a beautiful March day in Eden Park, the all star baseball game between the characters of the Old and New Testaments is about to start. Moses is coaching the Old Testaments and Jesus is coaching the New Testaments. Prior to the first pitch, Jesus talked to the hot dog vendor, the temple merchant and asked, “How are your sales going today?”

“Just awful,” replied the merchant, “the crowd has been eating two fish and five loaves of bread all day. They aren’t buying anything. Just when the fish and bread appear to run out, all this manna falls from the sky. I’m going back to the temple.”

Moses, in the Old Testament bullpen choosing the starting pitcher said, “Let anyone among you with talent cast the first ball…. I didn’t think so, I will pitch.”

Goliath, the first batter, was ahead in the count when Peter hit him on the forehead, killing him instantly. Jesus went to the mound and said, “Peter, why did you hit Goliath, I gave you the sign to pitch outside.”

“No you didn’t,” said Peter.

“I gave you the pitch-out sign because Goliath is a tremendous hitter but is slow on the base path. We could  pick him off,” sayeth the Lord.

“I didn’t see any sign. How was I to know a rainbow meant to pitch outside?”

“If you saw the rainbow, you saw the sign,” said Jesus.

Peter replied, “What rainbow?” Just then, the cock crowed and Jesus said, “Get thee behind me, Satan; for you have denied me three times. I am bringing in a relief pitcher.” Turning to the crowd, Jesus asked who they wanted.

“Give us Barabbas,” the crowd roared. Peter stormed off the mound and lunged into the crowd, biting off a spectator’s ear after being heckled. Barabbas retired the final batters. The game went back and forth for several innings, with the Old Testaments opening a 5 run lead going into the bottom of the ninth inning. Moses, pitching a brilliant game, was tiring in the last inning. John the Baptist made the first out because he chewed his bat to a nub and struck out. Barabbas made the next out on a pop up to shortstop.

Judas, the next batter, got a base hit to left field. On the next pitch, he stole second and continued to third when the throw was wild. Jesus called timeout to talk to Judas. “How many times do I have to tell you, thou shalt not steal?” Jesus then replaced Judas with a pinch runner, Nebuchadnezzar.

This move caused a murmur among the New Testaments. “This is an important run. I don’t know why Jesus chose Nebuchadnezzar to pinch run. After all, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man get home,” said Matthew.

Zacchaeus, the next batter, squatted down, drawing a walk. He is only 4’ 10” tall standing and presents no strike zone at all when he squats. Lazarus approached the plate with runners on first and third. He had not been able to solve Moses all day, as he meekly struck out three prior times. He was determined to do better this time and crowded the plate. Moses hit him in the head with an inside fastball. Lazarus dropped dead on the spot. Thinking Moses killed Lazarus because Peter killed Goliath earlier, Solomon was about to toss him from the game when Lazarus popped up and trotted to first base.

The Old Testaments were 5 runs ahead, but the New Testaments had loaded the bases with two outs. When Jesus put himself in as a pinch hitter, Noah called timeout in order to talk to Moses. “Moses, we need to intentionally walk Jesus.” As they were talking, they turned to see Jesus there with them.

Moses shouted, “Lott, why didn’t you tell us Jesus was coming to the mound?”

“I didn’t see him. I wasn’t going to turn around,” replied Lott. Lott continued, “Jesus why are you in this meeting, you coach the other team?”

“For where two or three are gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of them,” came the reply. Jesus returned to the plate and with two outs, the bases loaded and trailing by 5 runs, he hit a 6 run homer to win the game. It’s a miracle!

Randy Russ
http://www.randyruss.com/

Child President

Tantrum at the Whine of the Union Address

In November, 2008, this country elected a President with virtually no experience based on the promise of hope and change. The people hoped Obama would grow into the job as he administered this hope and change. That is what makes this country great, virtually anyone can become President. Obama proves that point.

With a super majority in the Senate, control of the House and a popularity rating in the 70% range, the new President seemed poised to push through any legislation he desired, but something funny happened along the way. The American people rejected his policies of government take-over, drunken-sailor spending, backroom deals and Miranda rights for terrorists.

The American people grew tired of his ad nauseum apologies. They did not like to call the war on terror an overseas contingency. The change promised during the campaign became 15 cents on the dollar and the hope was maybe it would become 20 cents. The American people tried to express these grievances during the spring and summer with tea parties all across America. Prior to the Revolutionary War, the original tea party in Boston was a protest against the heavy-handedness of the King. The modern tea parties are trying to convey the same sentiment. Our would-be King, the Child President, is pushing his agenda of ‘Big Brother’ government regardless of the Constitution or the will of the people.

The Child President and his Court, along with the Court Jester, Joe Biden, continued to be oblivious to the tea parties. The tea party participants were vilified, called racists, Nazis and stupid people who cling to their guns and religion. The tea parties were dismissed as a few right wing dissidents too stupid to understand the Child President.

Then along came the Massachusetts senate race. The Child President campaigned in that state and derided the American-made 200,000 mile truck driven by Brown. That crazy bunch of right wing dissidents in Massachusetts elected Republican Scott Brown to the Senate over Democrat Martha Coakley to the seat held by the late Ted Kennedy since 1962. Obama would no longer enjoy a super majority in the Senate and would have to actually have to invite those rascally Republicans to meetings. Well there goes the neighborhood. The Child President suffered his first scrapped knee and was not happy about it.

The Child President took the opportunity of the State of the Union Address to throw a tantrum. He turned it into the Whine of the Union Address instead. He whined about partisan politics just before he bashed the Republicans. He whined about the Supreme Court while the members of that Court were sitting there in front of him. He whined about TV pundits. He whined about the evils of lobbyists and then invited them to a meeting the very next day. He whined about Bush. He whined about the deficit, promising to freeze spending in 2011, but he ran up a record deficit in only one year.

The petulant Child President does not want to hear from the unwashed populous the king is wearing no clothes. If you think it difficult to rear a Child President, just wait until his teen years. God help us all .,, Wait, can I still say God?

Randy Russ
http://www.randyruss.com/

Groundhog Day

Be Like Phil (But Not At First)

"Last Tuesday, the 2nd, was Candlemas day, the day on which, according to the Germans, the Groundhog peeps out of his winter quarters and if he sees his shadow he pops back for another six weeks nap, but if the day be cloudy he remains out, as the weather is to be moderate."

James Morris, Berks County, Pennsylvania Storekeeper, February 5, 1841

This is one of the first American references to what we now call Groundhog’s Day celebrated on February 2nd. It was the basis for one of my favorite movies, Groundhog Day, starring Bill Murray. In this movie, Bill Murray plays the part of an egocentric Pittsburgh weather man, Phil Connors, covering the hated Groundhog Day assignment in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. Strangely enough, it is Groundhog Day each morning Phil awakens and he has to repeat this hated assignment over and over again. At first, he uses this unique situation for his own selfish reasons. With no fear of long-term consequences, Phil eats to the point of gluttony. He steals money, he uses inside information about the townspeople for dubious motives. He gives abusive and offensive reports on the Groundhog Day. He kidnaps Punxsutawney Phil and drives off a cliff, much to the horror of everyone else. He commits various forms of suicide. He does all of this knowing he will awaken the next morning to the sounds of Sonny and Cher on his radio alarm and will start a fresh day.

But a strange metamorphosis occurs. Eventually, Phil Connor uses his unique situation to make his life and others around him better. He learns foreign languages. He learns the piano. He learns to ice sculpt. He discovers other people’s needs and assists them. It took Phil a long time reliving the same day over and over before he changed. His life moved forward only after he finally changed into a better person. At last, he woke to the morning of February 3rd.

I fear we are all a little like Phil Connors. We try the same thing over and over and seem to never wake up to a truly new day. Oh, it is a new day according to the calendar, but is it really new? We get in a rut and like it there. The rut is familiar and is safe. We do the same thing over and over, never bothering to look over the sides of our rut. The longer we stay in our rut, the deeper it becomes and we like that as well. If work your rut long enough, it becomes an inescapable grave.

We do not move from our ruts until we abandon our selfishness and think about other people’s needs. You do not have to learn to ice sculpt, play the piano or speak French before you wake up to a new day, start this moment. Make a difference in someone else’s life. Find someone who needs help, look them in the eye and quote the song Phil Connors heard every morning, I got you babe.

Randy Russ

http://www.randyruss,com/

Take A Mulligan

Everyone Deserves a Do-over Once In A While

It is a brand new year, which can only mean one thing; a lot of us will participate in the annual lie called ‘New Year resolutions’. A New Year resolution does not start out as a lie does it? We really mean to lose weight, read more, stay on a budget, go to church, not gossip, etcetera but then something terrible happens; the morning of January 2nd comes around. There is always a reason for not losing weight, reading more or going to church. It’s raining; it’s not raining; it’s too cold; it’s too hot. Each of these excuses is followed by, ‘but I will do it next time. I promise.’ Resolutions are easy on New Year’s Day, but then comes January 2nd, January 3rd and so on and so forth. The resolution starts to fade and we feel a twinge of guilt about our lack of resolve. Being adverse to failure, I make resolutions I can keep.

One year, I resolved to resist the urge to smoke. Since I never smoked, resisting the urge to start was achievable. Other resolutions included eating more, exercising less, procrastinating more, and not wearing metal pants in electrical storms. I am happy to report I kept all those resolutions. This year, for reasons I will not mention, I resolved to lose 25 pounds. This year is harder than most and I will need some help. I need a mulligan.

A mulligan is a golf term meaning ‘do-over.’ When you hit a bad shot, take a mulligan. A mulligan is not legal under the official rules of golf, but is employed by mutual consent during friendly rounds with golfing buddies. The origin of the term is not known as several versions exist. One explanation by the USGA Museum, proposes a gentleman named David Mulligan, playing at the St. Lambert Country Club in Montreal, Canada, hit a tee shot of which he was not particularly proud. He re-teed and called it a ‘correction shot.’ His buddies decided the shot deserved a better, more distinctive name, so they called it a mulligan.

If you watch me attempt to play golf, you know a mulligan is my favorite shot. Some people like putts, others chips, but I like mulligans. I stand there on the first tee and check my grip and my stance. I go over my swing technique in my mind and finally launch into the shot. The golf ball promptly lands in the lake or the woods or perhaps on the roof of the silly homeowner who built a home so close to where I play golf. After the laughter subsides, I claim my mulligan and get a do-over.

It is nice of my buddies to grant me a mulligan; we all need one from time to time. I will need a do-over to keep this year’s resolution. I fear a single mulligan will not suffice, but if one mulligan is a good thing, two would be wonderful and 365 would be …sufficient. Hey, I think I am on to something here.

Randy Russ
http://www.randyruss,com/