And so it goes...

"I do not believe in an America in which the separation of church and state is absolute."
Former senator and current Republican presidential candidate Rick Santorum, This Week with George Stephanopolous, February 26, 2012.

As a supporter of President Obama's re-election, I'm thrilled with this quote; as an American, I'm horrified. Not surprised by it, as Santorum has been casually dismissing the doctrine first espoused by Thomas Jefferson, but still horrified.

Defending his outrageous statement, Santorum claims President Obama and others are trying to ban any influence on America from all but secular sources, which is about as far from the truth as you'll find this election year, and that's really saying something. The various religious faiths prevalent in this country have their role and their opportunities for input, as the recent debate about health care coverage for contraceptives proves. Few would deny the religious among us the chance to express their views on public policy.

But that's not good enough for Santorum. He insists that Americans conform to his version of religious faith, his moral code, and his strict rules for behavior. If his church -- the Roman Catholic Church -- says sex is only for breeding and contraceptives are verboten, so be it. If his church declares that homosexuality is an abomination (while historically protecting its own priests from prosecution for child abuse and worse), then gays and lesbians should be relegated to the shadows of our society.

Santorum has said reading John Kennedy's famous speech on his own Catholicism and its place vis a vis the presidency made him "want to throw up." Most Americans regard that speech as one of the finest in our history, and a key in changing Americans' prejudice against Catholics.

It amazes me how these candidates so casually disregard the lessons of our past. Mitt Romney says the proposal to have health care providers pay for contraception is the worst assault on religious freedom in our country's history. Really? Worse than when Mormons -- Romney's religious rethren -- were being murdered for their faith?

Similar in its disproportion is the revival of the Hitler/Nazi slur. If one of the Republicans disagrees with something the current administration is doing, it must be because the policy is the next step toward national socialism, or inspired by Hitler's world view, or some other such garbage. Apparently, we can no longer just disagree about something and propose an alternative.

For purely political purposes, I can take heart that these ridiculous statements should help ensure President Obama's re-election. I retain enough faith in my countrymen and women to feel they will see through the absurdity of these campaigns.

For the future of our country, however, I worry about the dumbing-down, and worse, of our political discourse.

The day the music returns

As I walked to get my newspaper this morning, I stopped in my tracks and smiled at the sound of birds singing. For me, this is the one sign of spring I treasure, the true sign of the change of season.

The temperatures may climb out of their winter cellar, the sun may appear longer in the sky, insects may start to buzz about, and the flowers may start to poke from the ground, but it's the delightful symphony of songbirds that is my marker. We're not out of the proverbial woods yet, as the vernal equinox is still weeks away, but spring is coming.

A little birdy told me so.

Politics and hypocrisy. But I repeat myself.

I am delighted to hear Republican presidential candidates and other prominent party figures, like Rep. Paul Ryan, express how important it is for Americans to protest the use of taxpayer money to fund actions that violate the citizenry's moral beliefs.

Republicans are focused on the so-called contraception debate, in which they say no American should be forced to pay for someone else's -- meaning women's -- birth control. But I'm sure it's just a matter of time before they talk about those of us opposed to capital punishment and wars based on lies and deceit. Certainly, if their money shouldn't go toward birth control, then my money shouldn't go to executions. Or wars for oil. Or subsidies for oil companies and corn growers. My moral outrage has numerous targets, and I'm thrilled that any day now, the Republicans will let me know how much I can lower my tax payments, since I'll no longer have to support those government activities I oppose.

Unfortunately, I think I'll be waiting a long time for that notice. This "debate" about contraception isn't about contraception, morality, or even taxes. It's about men telling women what is best for them. While Republicans claim the Obama administration's efforts to ensure access to birth control -- which, coincidentally, would lessen the frequency of abortions -- is Big Brother forcing religious people to violate their moral beliefs, it is no such thing.

 

The administration's plan offers an exemption to religious institutions similar to those offered by 28 states. Eight states offer no exemption to those institutions at all. What have the Republicans been doing while all those states were so callously wreaking havoc on the religious liberties of their citizens?

These sorry excuses for real political issues are the price we pay for the political system we have. The primary season is time for the extremists on every side to come out to play. Candidates are encouraged to jump through a series of hoops held by niche influence peddlers in order to secure another tiny block of voters. No lunatic fringe group is ignored while the candidate tries to assemble a winning percentage of the electorate.

I often joke about packing up my motorcycle and heading to South America for retirement. It's hard for someone like me, who has been involved in politics one way or another since I was 14, to think so cynically about elections. But sometimes I grow tired and dispirited about it all.

Fortunately, President Obama continues to inspire me to stay hopeful. He's not perfect, of course, and there are several issues on which we disagree. However, I think history will show him to have tried incredibly hard to advance the country and the world in a very difficult time with virtually no support from the other side. When your opposition states at the beginning of your term that its mission is to deny you success, then spends the last 3+ years opposing every effort you make -- even those originally proposed by their own members -- you have to wonder whether the job is really worth the aggravation.

I'm glad Obama wanted the Presidency and still wants it. Every day that passes gives more evidence of the emptiness of the Republican field of candidates, and the Republican party in general. They are empty of worthwhile ideas, empty of sincerity, empty of compassion, and empty of empathy.

Each day convinces me even more of the need to re-elect President Obama. The country is moving in the right direction, and this is no time to start sliding back to the mess Republicans caused the last time around.

Taste of the town

There are many ways to know spring is coming. Daffodils and crocuses poking up through the earth, longer hours of daylight, gradually warming temperatures, are all harbingers of winter's fade. Around Fredericksburg, Virginia, there is the re-opening of Carl's.

Carl's is as much a part of historic Fredericksburg as the Civil War battlefields and George Washington's boyhood home. OK, that might be overstating it, but it is on the National Register of Historic Places. For more than 60 years now, Carl's has been using the original Electro Freeze machines to pump out vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream. Most of us refer to the delicious frozen product as custard, but under Virginia law, it's ice cream. Technically, custard has slightly more egg yolks than Carl's, but that really doesn't matter to us locals.

Tonight, I rode my motorcycle to Carl's after work. Every year, Carl's opens on the Friday before President's Day (and closes on the Sunday before Thanksgiving) and, for some people, hitting Carl's on opening day is as much a tradition as that baseball thing.

There is almost always a line at Carl's, but it moves quickly. The method of ordering is a little like the soup Nazi episode of Seinfeld, only without the yelling. Friendly young women, usually college students, staff the order window, and there's a definite routine:

- Be ready to order when you hit the window;
- Have your money in hand (single dollar bills are appreciated);
- Pay your tab, step to the left;
- In an instant, another staffer hands you your ice cream, and you're good to go.

I grabbed a small chocolate cone, though I'm a big fan of their chocolate malts. Given the opportunity, you'll develop your favorites, too.

The atmosphere was akin to a block party. Total strangers, united only by their affection for rich, creamy custard -- there, I said it -- mingled and chatted. One couple came over to me and, seeing my motorcycle, commented that I was "really hardcore." Surprised, I asked why they thought that.

"It's freezing out here," the man said. "That's real dedication." I wasn't sure if he meant I was dedicated to motorcycling or ice cream, but I responded the temperature was actually in the 40s and this was really good riding weather. I'm not sure he was convinced.

I talked to a family who brought their small children and their Australian Shepherd, all of whom slurped up the custard, and there were many people just hanging out, enjoying their first taste of Carl's this year.

Some of my friends dismiss the ice cream at Carl's, preferring other shops with multiple flavors. But for me, half the fun is the fact that Carl's is a Fredericksburg institution, small town Americana at its finest. Other flavors can wait, this is opening day!

On Valentine's Day

February 14 can be a tough day for the unattached.

The media is filled with advertisements for romantic gifts, stories about the cute ways couples met, and adorable marriage proposals. For those without partners, however, it's another reminder of the unshared lives they lead.

It's not the same as loneliness. Your life can be filled with friends and acquaintances, you can enjoy professional success, and for some that can be enough. But I believe humans are pack animals of a sort, meant to be with other humans in a shared environment. Call it a marriage, a family, a village, whatever; the term used matters less than the sense of belonging you enjoy.

I was struck tonight by a story on The Last Word about the state of Washington legalizing gay marriage. State representative Maureen Walsh -- a conservative Republican, by the way -- gave an eloquently personal speech in favor, relating her own years of marriage to the plight of gays and lesbians, including her own daughter, who merely want to share the same kind of commitment with another human being. Denying them the right to form such a bond, she said, was just cruel.

When I consider my own experiences, including a marriage, I cannot imagine being so cruel as to deny those experiences to others. My marriage ended in a divorce, and so will some of those of same sex couples. That's sad, of course, but much sadder is to deny anyone the opportunity to make a go of it simply because of their sexual orientation.

Life is too short and much too hard to make it worse by denying love to anyone. If you don't like gay marriage, don't enter into one. But let those who have found the love of their life enjoy the fullness of that love. Domestic partnerships and civil unions won't cut it. For better or worse, richer or poorer, marriage should be open to all who dare to commit to it.

A great star bows out

Another great voice has been silenced. Whitney Houston, a music superstar whose life and career were both cut short, is gone and the world is a lesser place for her passing.

Houston had an amazing vocal range spanning three octaves, and used the power, purity, and warmth of her instrument to put together a string of consecutive #1 hits unmatched in musical history. There are few alive who could not sing along with her hits. Her place in the pantheon of singers was assured years ago.

For the last several years, she had been trying to recover from problems with drugs and alcohol, and from her troubled marriage to fellow singer Bobby Brown. That marriage, including more than a few difficult-to-watch scenes, was documented by a "reality series" called Being Bobby Brown. Anyone watching the show could see there were serious problems in that relationship.

Houston divorced Brown in 2007, and had been trying to make a comeback, both professionally and personally. Sadly, we will never know whether she could have regained her greatness, but people who had been around her lately said she was sounding good and seemed positive and upbeat. This weekend, however, she was seen looking disheveled, sounding and acting erratically compared to her appearance the last few months.

Whatever the exact cause of her death, it is clear drugs will have played a major role. Unfortunately, this is an all too common story in our society. The number of artists and musicians we have lost to drug misuse -- legal and illegal, including alcohol -- could fill a book. Sadly, this will not be the final chapter.

Growing up in the '60s and '70s, I was not unfamiliar with the recreational use of various substances. I never drank all that much, other than a handful of times in my 20s, but I smoked marijuana off and on from my junior year in high school until my early 20s. For whatever reason, I never progressed to the harder stuff, as many of my circle did. I had friends who were doing cocaine, pills (mostly barbiturates), and even heroin. More than a couple died, either from the drugs themselves or from the behaviors that frequently accompany such abuse. One killed himself with barbiturates the day before he was to go to trial for robbing a gas station to get money for drugs. He was a sophomore in high school. Talk about a waste.

I'm not sure why I didn't follow them. It might have been my upbringing, the knowledge that I was loved and cared for, that kept me from being so desperate to find some other happiness. To be sure, I experimented along with so many of my generation and had a few close calls of my own, but apparently I was not so self-destructive as to challenge death so earnestly. Whatever the reason, I am grateful to be here still. My life isn't perfect, but I'm alive and able to make my own choices. They may not always be the best choices, but I try.

It seems Whitney Houston might have been trying to get back to the right choices in her own life. Ten years younger than I, she unfortunately ran out of time. I suspect her death will be ruled an accident -- either an accidental mixing of Xanax and alcohol or, after taking something to calm her nerves before a Grammy event, falling asleep and drowning in her bathtub. Either way, there is nothing pretty or noble about such a death. It's just another senseless death of an artist lost way too soon.