Prayers for James Joyner and his family

I met James Joyner, editor of Outside the Beltway, at CPAC 2009. What a nice guy.

It was a great shock to learn that James’ wife, Kimberly, passed away in her sleep over the weekend. They were still practically newlyweds, having just celebrated their sixth anniversary. They have two daughters, Katie, almost 3 and Ellie, 5 months.

Keep James and his girls in your utmost prayers. He will need constant support not only now, but in the years to come.

A Great Day, Indeed

31-17. Deja vu, all over again.

Smitty – Post of the Day

Smitty takes Ezra Klein to the woodshed and thrashes him with a turkey drumstick. It still baffles me that such a liberal-bleating gasbag is able to draw a paycheck.

Outstanding.

Give Thanks

If anyone asks, I’m off the grid for the Thanksgiving weekend. Not that I’ve been on the grid that much lately due to work “opportunities” and other such poppy-cock. With six-ish weeks until Iowa, I’m beginning to get some fire in the belly. And all this time, I thought it was an ulcer from work.

Irregardless, this holiday is for giving thanks for the bounty God has bestowed on us, including a nation like no other in the course of human history. While there may be a buffoon currently at the helm, give thanks for him, too, because he is a reminder of our freedoms. Freedom of speech. Freedom to worship how we choose. Freedom to protect ourselves. Freedom to live where we want and do what we want to do, marry (or not) whom we choose, have as many children as we want. Freedom to limit him to one term.

Pray for his strength to hold out, because he has single-handed woken the sleeping giant of regular work-a-day Americans to fight against tyranny and government-overreach.

America is still the shining beacon on the hill, no matter who or what tries to tarnish it.

Be like George. Be grateful and seek direction for the coming months as we battle for America.

Things That Make Me Happy

When a conservative, any conservative really, makes liberal media heads explode like this, well, beams of light illuminate the heavens and baby angels get their wings.

Big smile. Clean up on aisle five.

And Now the Sugar has Risen to Heaven – UPDATED

Larry Munson, the legendary voice of the Georgia Bulldogs, passed away overnight due to complications from his earlier bout with pneumonia. He was 89.

If you’re not a Bulldawg, you wonder why all hoopla… well, take a listen here, and when the goosebumps rise, head back here. That’s ok. I’ll wait. Listening to Larry is a joy.

Larry was always a part of my Dawg experience. When you weren’t there, he was, and boy, could he make you feel like you were sitting right beside him. Georgia fans would turn down the TV broadcasters (unbiased, my foot. And don’t get me started about about Kirk Herbstreit!) and listen to Larry.

Georgia Sports Blog has several good round-ups, including how the 1978 Kentucky game sealed Tyler’s destiny as a Dawg. Funny, but that my memory of that game in particular always raises the hair on my neck. I was in the Redcoats, Kentucky was away that year. Those days, the band didn’t travel as much as it does now. The game was winding down. The Dawgs were behind, driving down the field, hoping to get into field goal range. Larry was about to melt the radio. The clock. The clock was killing us. My mom and I were pacing around the kitchen table like nervous dads in hospital waiting rooms. When Rex Robinson made the field goal, we jumped and hollered so much, something broke in the china cabinet. Such was the effect of Larry.

Three years ago, Larry retired. UGA released this video tribute. (via SBNation)

Sweet dear Larry, scratch the UGA’s bellies for me, rub Erk’s shiny head and ask to see Lewis’ tattoo. Can you imagine the three of them, together on their cloud and the stories that will be told for eternity?

There will be more linkage as the tributes roll in. It’s a sad day for the Bulldawg Nation. And yet just another reason to beat the ever-livin’-stuffin’ out of Georgia Tech. This one will be for you, Larry.

UPDATE: At Peach Pundit, fellow Dawg Charlie said, “In a region of the country where college football is a way of life, he was the pied piper to those who wear red and black.

Amen to that!

UPDATE II: Here’s a wonderful eulogy by Joe Posnanski.

There were people who didn’t like Munson, of course, but it seems most people did, even those who despised Georgia or biased announcers. The bias wasn’t the point. He just made it fun. He was over-the-top. He was literary and wacky and unpredictable. He was both intensely cynical (“We have no chance today,” was pretty much how he approached every game) and starry eyed. He brought the same energy and wonderment and ferocity to every game. When the Bulldogs were losing, he was sure they would lose. When they were winning, he was warning about disasters lingering just around the corner (Hunker down!). And when Georgia actually won cherokee roses bloomed, Ray Charles sang, moonlight slipped through the pines.

And like the rest of us, Munson was the voice inside Tommy Tomlinson’s head. One day back in 1980…

I happened to be in Athens on the day of the Georgia-Florida game in 1980. I was on my high-school debate team, and we had been in a tournament, and we gathered in an auditorium on campus waiting for the results. Some kids in the back had a radio and were listening to the game down in Jacksonville. I couldn’t hear the words, but I could hear the tone of Larry’s voice. Georgia was done. Third-and-forever on their own 8.

And then Larry’s voice rose, and I looked over my shoulder and the kids in the back had jumped out of their seats. I know this next part didn’t happen, but it’s what I remember: The radio was dancing off the floor and the words were flying out of it, like you see in cartoons.

“45, 40 — RUN, LINDSAY — 25, 20, 15, 10, 5, LINDSAY SCOTT! LINDSAY SCOTT! LINDSAY SCOTT!”

We ran outside. You could hear hollering from the dorms, and car horns honking, and people just stood there on the sidewalk and screamed. This went on for hours. I was 16, and it was the most spontaneous joy I had ever been a part of.

Yeah, Larry had a way of doing that.

Quote of the Day

Oldie, but goodie:

Giving money and power to the government is like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys.” P.J. O’Rourke

Hope, Despair and the Coming Apocalypse

It has been five weeks today since I interviewed for a promotion. No news. Good grief, even Congress advances at a speedier pace than this glacial establishment. [UPDATE: Bah, humbug.]

Over at Pioneer Woman, Mark Spearman writes this excellent piece on The Shawshank Redemption, one of my favorite movies. (I mean, really, I have hundreds of favorite movies. Don’t make me pick.) Andy has so much hope, so much perseverance, is it any wonder he finally achieves his freedom?

At the end of the day, I think the central message of Shawshank is that it’s not angry defiance that defeats oppression. It is the ability to keep our dignity, and our sense of self, intact.

Then over at Gerard’s place, our favorite Heart-on-the-Mend poet worries that the swelling ocean below us is really a whale. He’s been on quite the Melville bender lately. Perhaps a visit by Bakerella is order.

Can you feel it lurking just under the surface? I can and I think you can as well. The Greeks knew it as “Nemesis.” Melville’s Ahab knew it as “thou damned whale” and he struck at it from Hell’s heart. Unperturbed it gathered him up and took him down. Then it took the boat and after that the ship. All save one followed. The whale beneath the surface of America’s life is still there and all signs point to its breaching soon. Exactly where and exactly how are still unknown, but soon.

I feel the thing beneath the boat and I think others of my fellow citizens in ever growing millions feel it as well. We do not feel good about it and what it augers for the near and far future.

In both cases, truer words have never been spoken (or written). We hope. We despair. Then we hope again. Americans are like that, you know.

Like Mr. Lundie said in Brigadoon, “…sunshine can peep through a wee hole…”

About a year from now, there will be a test. What once was a cyclical exercise in civil awareness and citizen involvement is now lining up to be The Election That Decides America’s Future.

Don’t despair. It will be a bloody battle, but America will win in the end. Like Andy Dufresne.

Basking in the Afterglow

It’s a good season when the bell gets a workout.

I really wanted to hang 70 on them, but CRM is too much of a gentleman, I suppose.

Surveying the wreckage, several observations make me happy. Sooo happy, in fact, I may start the GT smack talk a week early.

The Senator gives us the dawgylicious stats summary:

If you want to see the glory of the afternoon’s domination of the Tigers/Eagles/Plainsmen/Whatever, click here.

And just to rub it in, here’s your Isaiah Crowell’s Nah-Nah-Nah-Nah, Nah-Nah-Nah-Nah, Hey-Hey-Hey moment compliments of the Georgia Sports Blog:

Isaiah Crowell, "Seeya, wouldn't want to beya" (Photo by Jim Hipple)

It’s Great to be a Georgia Bulldawg

Ring that Chapel Bell with gusto!

Nerd Alert

Today is the last binary day for 3,006 days. Today’s date (111111) converted to decimal (base-10 for all you Big Bang Theory fans out there) is 63.

In other so-called news, today is also Corduroy Celebration Day. Get it? The ridges in corduroy fabric resemble the date. 111111. Ridges. Rows. Whatever. Yeah, I know, it’s a stretch. Not stretch corduroy, just a stretch. Tim Gunn was not available for comment.

Party like a rocket scientist! Or at least like Leonard. He’s the fun one.

Remember

Thank a veteran today, and every day, for the our freedoms.

“Earn this.”

Good grief. Now the Stormtroppers are doing it…

(via Trog, who swiped it from brainhiccup)

Sick. Just sick.

Pam Geller got this in her email yesterday.

Sick. Just sick.

Imagine If a Conservative Talking Head Said This

Dick Gregory, host of “Meet The Press” (NBC) , said this regarding Herman Cain on this morning’s Today Show, “Well there is no, you know, Grand Wizard in the party right now who can really force the issue.”

Grand Wizard? If a non-left-leaning commentator had uttered those words, all hell would break loose. But since Gregory is a darling of the media, all he gets is an opportunity to apologize.

Bleck.

(h/t Malkin)

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