Category Archives: Personal

Spread the word about Marizela

Conervative blogger Michelle Malkin’s cousin is missing. Let’s light up the web in hopes someone who knows something will say something. In the meantime, let’s pray for Marizela’s safe return.

Missing: Marizela Perez
Searching for Marizela: An update
Marizela Perez: Still missing
Searching for Marizela: Video surveillance screen shots

Other Malkinites and various media outlets are helping spread the word.
Media:Seattle Times
KOMO radio’s John Carlson and KOMO TV’s Shomari Stone
KING TV
KIRO
Malkinites:
Jeff Setaro
David Boze

Pray pray pray pray pray!

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Filed under Personal, Uncategorized

I Can’t Forget

I remember when the song “Have You Forgotten?” by Darryl Worley came out. The reaction from the leftists was predictable: “Of course we haven’t forgotten!”

In retrospect, I think they were right. They can’t forget that which they never learned.

On the other hand, I can’t forget. Though the impact on my life was minimal, I still felt like I had been punched in the gut (and I do know what that really feels like). My country was wounded. I doubt any of these pathetic trans-national, post-national, globalist, statist, progressive pigs know what that feels like.

Breathes there the man with soul so dead
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne’er within him burned,
As home his footsteps he hath turned
From wandering on a foreign strand!
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonored , and unsung.

from “The Lay of the Last Minstrel”
by Sir Walter Scott

As midnight approached, to bring in the 11th, I felt increasingly somber.

Nine years later, 9/11 still makes me feel like I had the breath knocked out of me. I made it through most of the day fine, but I’m not ashamed to say that I did weep once.

I remember. I will not forget. I can’t forget.

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Filed under culture, Personal, politics

I Love You, Dad

As a child, I said these words to my dad on a regular basis. Sometime around adolescence, I stopped saying them. It wasn’t because I stopped loving my father. I guess it was just that adolescent male transition. Somewhere, I don’t know when, the adolescent me discovered that it just wasn’t “manly” enough.

Flash forward to today. I’m the dad now. My young son tells me that he loves me all the time. I cannot express how much it thrills me to hear those words. At some point, I realized that I wasn’t saying them to my dad.

I’ve heard the songs like “Everything I Own” by Bread, written by lead singer David Gates as a tribute to his late father. The lyrics contain a very potent reminder that you need to tell those you love of that fact. I’ve also heard the stories that read like letters to Dear Abby about people who found themselves in that situation. In addition, I know people who experienced that heartache. Stories like that move your heart. These things led me to start hugging my dad more when we were visiting my parents, but still saying the words was hard. Years of not saying them had made it difficult. As I said before, I have always loved my father – I just stopped saying it directly. Even though I stopped saying the words, I found other ways to express my love for my father. However, I now realize that is not enough. Every time I hear my son say: “I love you, Dad,” my heart soars with rapture that cannot be expressed.

I no longer care about society or culture’s ideas or my perception of them. I cannot and will not refuse to say those words anymore. It’s not easy – years of habit cannot be erased easily. I don’t know if that awkwardness exists for every man, or just for me. It doesn’t matter. I love my dad and I will tell him.

“I love you, Dad!”

Is there someone you know,
You’re loving them so,
But taking them all for granted.
You may lose them one day,
Someone takes them away,
And they don’t hear the words you long to say
from “Everything I Own” by David Gates

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