thanks Geri for the cartoon and for having my back!
When I was a kid, back when knights were bold, there were times when we were ushered to the assembly hall at Hampton Elementary School, where the custodian, foregoing or delaying his smoke break down by the boiler, would wheel in a 16" b&W tv and we would all squint at flickering images of an astronaut blasting off or splashing down.
This was considered news. We watched with alacrity. It beat the hell out of long division, and we went back to class, comforted in the knowledge that if we studied hard and maintained diligence and learned all about science and propulsion and followed directions, there was a really good chance that someday, another rocket ship would blast off for the moon, and we'd be watching that one, too.
And so with a certain sadness, I read the comments of some fellow citizens yesterday, who didn't know if it was ok for their kids to watch the president address the nation's schoolchildren, but perhaps it would have been better to have permission slips sent home, so that the parents could decide whether or not this brilliant man, who came from a single-parent home of decidedly lower economic realm, who worked hard enough to earn scholarships, who worked hard at the grassroots level in Chicago and won election to the US Senate and the White House, had something to say inspiring enough to take a few minutes of the school day for little Egbert and Gertrude.
I have the feeling that Mr Obama could go to the beach one afternoon, see a kid drowing in a rip current, dash out and grab him and swim with him back to shore, only to have the O'Hannitys of the nation claim that he brutishly entered the water and dragged the youngster away from his natatorial pursuits.
Sour grapes, Sluggo.
No comments:
Post a Comment