Dear Caroline,

We've never met, so I hope you don't find this letter too presumptuous or inappropriate. As its contents involve the public's business, I am sending this to you via the public on the Internet. I knew your brother John. He was a great guy, and I know he would've had a ball during this thrilling and historic election year. We all miss him dearly.

Barack Obama selected you to head up his search for a vice presidential candidate. It appears we may be just days (hours?) away from learning who that choice will be.

The media is reporting that Senator Obama has narrowed his alternatives to three men: Joe Biden, Evan Bayh and Tim Kaine. They're all decent fellows, but they are far from the core of what the Obama campaign has been about: Change. Real change. Out with the old. And don't invade countries that pose no threat to us.

Senators Biden and Bayh voted for that invasion and that war, the war Barack ran against, the war Barack reminded us was the big difference between him and Senator Clinton because she voted for the war and he spoke out against it while running for Senate (a brave and bold thing to do back in 2002).

For Obama to place either of these senators on the ticket would be a huge blow to the millions that chose him in the primaries over Hillary. He will undercut one of the strongest advantages he has over the Hundred-Year War senator, Mr. McCain. By anointing a VP who did what McCain did in throwing us into this war, Mr. Obama will lose the moral high ground in the debates.

As for Governor Kaine of Virginia, his big problem is, well, Obama's big problem -- who is he? The toughest thing Barack has had to overcome -- and it will continue to be his biggest obstacle -- is that too many of the voters simply don't know him well enough to vote for him. The fact that Obama is new to the scene is both one of his most attractive qualities AND his biggest drawback. Too many Americans, who on the surface seem to like Barack Obama, just don't feel comfortable voting for someone who hasn't been on the national scene very long. It's a comfort level thing, and it may be just what keeps Obama from winning in November ("I'd rather vote for the devil I know than the devil I don't know").

What Obama needs is a vice presidential candidate who is NOT a professional politician, but someone who is well-known and beloved by people across the political spectrum; someone who, like Obama, spoke out against the war; someone who has a good and generous heart, who will be cheered by the rest of the world; someone whom we've known and loved and admired all our lives and who has dedicated her life to public service and to the greater good for all.

That person, Caroline, is you.

I cannot think of a more winning ticket than one that reads: "OBAMA-KENNEDY."

Caroline, I know that nominating yourself is the furthest idea from your mind and not consistent with who you are, but there would be some poetic justice to such an action. Just think, eight years after the last head of a vice presidential search team looked far and wide for a VP -- and then picked himself (a move topped only by his hubris to then lead the country to near ruin while in office) -- along comes Caroline Kennedy to return the favor with far different results, a vice president who helps restore America to its goodness and greatness.

Caroline, you are one of the most beloved and respected women in this country, and you have been so admired throughout your life. You chose a life outside of politics, to work for charities and schools, to write and lecture, to raise a wonderful family. But you did not choose to lead a private life. You have traveled the world and met with its leaders, giving you much experience on the world stage, a stage you have been on since you were a little girl.

The nation has, remarkably (considering our fascination with celebrity), left you alone and let you live your life in peace. (It's like, long ago, we all collectively agreed that, with her father tragically gone, a man who died because he wanted to serve his country, we would look out for her, we would wish for her to be happy and well, and we would have her back. But we would let her be.)

Now, I am breaking this unwritten code and asking you to come forward and help us in our hour of need. So many families are hurting, losing their homes, going bankrupt with health care bills, seeing their public schools in shambles and living with this war without end. This is a historic year for women, from Hillary's candidacy to the numerous women running for the House and Senate. This is the year that a woman should be on the Democratic ticket. This is the year that both names on that ticket should be people OUTSIDE the party machine. This is the year millions of independents and, yes, millions of Republicans are looking for something new and fresh and bold (and you are the Kennedy Republicans would vote for!).

This is the moment, Caroline. Seize it! And Barack, if you're reading this, you probably know that she is far too humble and decent to nominate herself. So step up and surprise us again. Step up and be different than every politician we have witnessed in our lifetime. Keep the passion burning amongst the young people and others who have been energized by your unexpected, unpredicted, against-all-odds candidacy that has ignited and inspired a nation. Do it for all those reasons. Make Caroline Kennedy your VP. "Obama-Kennedy." Wow, does that sound so cool.

Caroline, thanks for letting me intrude on your life. How wonderful it will be to have a vice president who will respect the Constitution, who will support (instead of control) her president, who will never let her staff out a CIA agent, and who will never tell her country that she is "currently residing in an undisclosed location."

Say it one more time: "OBAMA-KENNEDY." A move like that might send a message to the country that the Democrats would actually like to win an election for once.

Yours,
Michael Moore
MMFlint@aol.com
MichaelMoore.com

Click here to join Mike's mailing list.

Or bad things, maybe. I've got a back problem, my friend Rosie has a problem with her knee and our mutual friend Deb has been on her back for the last three weeks with an inflamed sciatic nerve. Rosie is blind and heals very, very slowly and Deb's in constant and rather debilitating pain. Compared to that, I feel relatively healthy!

I talked to Deb today, just to find out how she was doing. "Boy, you me and Rosie," she said. "We're all messed up with something or another."

Boy, she's got that right. Wish there was something I could do to alleviate this. Send Mr. Clean to Niles, Michigan to keep Deb's house in order and a wrestling-champ nutritionist to Rosie's to make sure she eats right, even if that person has to sit on her to do it. Can't drive the car without gas, girl. Of course, now she'll complain she's got plenty of that.

Maybe we're just getting old, but this constant-pain stuff is starting to wear a little thin.

I could not, for the life of me, get to sleep yesterday. Mind you, this was the case even after taken a Vicodin to help with the back pain. That stuff is strong - normally enough to knock me out on my you-know-what.

My brain wouldn't kick off and let me go to sleep. I tossed and turned, for hours. I must have slept a little bit, but got out of bed this morning feeling absolutely miserable. I'm waiting to go to bed at this point. I don't want to do it too early.

The sleep problem basically wasted my day. I was a basket case with little or no energy to do anything. I still am. Managed to finish reading a book and called a few friends, that's about it.

Good thing I didn't have anything planned for today anyway. Tomorrow is going to be busier, with a trip to the doctor's and a meeting later in the afternoon. Hope I make it!

In the american based novel I'm reading, the young girl has just gone into a 99 cent store and bought a can of mace spray.

I'm very happy for her. Although its a novel, I'm presuming a young girl in the US could do this.

You can't do it here in Australia. It's illegal for anyone other than the police to carry mace spray.

I have two young gorgeous daughters and I thought I'd get them some. I'd seen little cans of it in a US magazine and they looked like little funky lipstick tubes. But the best you can do here is a small alarm that you can put on your keyring and I guess it makes such a big scary noise it scares the rapist away.

Kimba works in quite an isolated area. Recently she had to stay late on her own as the computer system was down so she couldn't reconcile the day and leave until she'd fixed it. All the other shops in the area had closed. While she was there a man came and started bashing on the door. He was crying and yelling at her that he knew she had stolen his dog. So she went over to the door and said she didn't have his dog but that she had seen the security guards take it with them when they left (because he had left it tied up somewhere). Well, she said he went off then. He was crying and walking around screaming out - security guards, where are you? for a while,  then it was quiet.

So she then has to go out and lock up the shop in the dark and walk through an empty mall to the bus stop. Of course she's worried that he may still be out there. And who's to say he's not. He's obviously a little unbalanced and he thinks she's stolen his dog. If she could have had a tube of mace in her hand, she might have felt a little easier.

Then one night she was out and walking between pubs with a guy she'd met and six young idiots ran out of a car park and yelled - give us your money and threw the guy she was with on the ground. She said she just bolted. She said she ran about four blocks until she came to a 24 hour reception motel and she went in there and told the woman but she said it wasn't any point ringing the police because they don't do anything anyway. I was scouring the paper the next day to make sure there was no mention of a body found in the area!

Mace may not have been any good in that situation if they had decided to go after her but it's still better than nothing. I really feel young women should be able to have something like that. I'd like some myself. I'm sure we're not all going to go mace mad and spray every man in sight. I guess self defence classes are the best we can do.

Anyway here's a nice photo of Kimba that Lizzie took for school photography. I was trying for a cross processed kind of effect. My money mind you - she never has any.

Show-me-the-money

3 comments

As I drove to work this morning I saw two hot air balloons flying over the city.  I would never ever go up in a hot air balloon. I don’t know if I inherited my mother’s height phobia, or developed it all on my own, but anything above chair height off the ground and I am not there.  Having one eye plays with one’s depth perception too, but I can’t use that as a true excuse as I was height phobic long before the said eye removal.

So, it is generally acknowledged that I would only ever go up in a hot hair balloon if I had to rescue my children from an eagles nest, or it was my choice between execution and going up in a wicker basket, though I guesstimate my chances of survival to be only slightly improved with wicker and silk, and it is highly probable that I would suffer a fatal heart attack brought on by fear anyway. (Just drop my body over the forest, mate, let me make some good compost. Tell the family I died a hero.)

Despite all my phobias and peccadilloes crowding together in my brain, and we all know there are many, as I drove along the hot air balloons kept sailing into my sight line. They looked so majestic against the blue early morning sky. My own mood lifted just watching them. I actually had to remind myself that I was on the freeway and to watch the road not the sky. The feeling of freedom and wild abandon that they represented just reached out its tendrils and engulfed me as well. I am sure that my step is lighter this morning for just catching a glimpse of them.

A friend’s mother, who has lived a very simple domestic life, surprised everyone by requesting a hot air balloon ride for her 70^th birthday. It was so out of character, but there really is a free spirit inside of everyone if it is just allowed to roam. It was one of the most beautiful moments of her life and an experience she still treasures.

While her enjoyment and continuing survival do nothing to entice me to up, up and away, I do envy the joy and the purity of the moment that those wicker riders must have been enjoying. No doubt their lives have been enhanced by the experience, and maybe in some way mine has been too. Those balloons sailing across the great blue sky caused me to remember that life is often moments, moments of joy and happiness, and moments of fear and sadness.  Those moments, all strung together make up our lives, and none of them, good or bad, should be valued the less for being. We should make the most of our moments, as just like the balloon ride, our moments do end. Appreciate what you’ve got, be it riding in the clouds, or watching from the ground, it all has meaning.

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Read this newsletter online http://tinyurl.com/dy6yy

Married 9 years today! Together for 13 years since last June!
Still happy and in love. Seems like a perfect day to take the doggies to the spot mom and dad got married...
:-)

I think I'm infatuated with this whole not going to work thing. I predict a rough time dragging my butt back tomorrow. That's the thing about taking vacation, but not going anywhere. When you take off work and head to the beach or whatever, you have a blast, but it doesn't feel like "real life." You know you're on a hiatus, and it isn't just the fact that you aren't going to work that's different. Your surroundings and your whole routine are shaken up.

When you take off work and stay local, it starts feeling dangerously like "hey, this is how life could be." Or at least it does if you're me. I'd better buy those lotto tickets quick.

I haven't done a whole lot with the time off. Saturday after our fishing jaunt we went to the pub to catch the Ravens pre-season game. Well, Lee caught the game. I pretty much ran my mouth with all the regulars the whole time. Sully came up and ended up crashing at our place overnight.

Sunday we went to my parents and I had my dream birthday meal - big fat spicy steamed crabs and corn on the cob. I wish I'd brought the camera to show just how big these suckers were, but I'd killed the battery while we were out Saturday so I'll just leave them up to the imagination.

Yesterday and today I spent a lot of time just catching up on things around here - cleaning, laundry, weeding and your basic suburban rituals. I've spent a lot of time reading up on diabetes and meal planning. Yes, I know that to those who know me well the idea of ME planning a meal that is anything other than a can of green beans and some cheese and crackers or a carry-out pizza is friggin' hilarious. But although Lee is an amazing cook and actually LIKES doing it, he needs some help with the planning and balance aspect of things, and I'm the one who actually enjoys reading and researching stuff. He goes back to the doctor in early September, and I'm sure we'll get lots more ideas and guidance then, but in the meantime I'm amazed at how much help there is out there.

I also joined Facebook today - probably about a million years after everyone else I know. I was reading Mello's post about joining, and for some reason, it just sparked me to go sign up myself. Funny thing, I only played around for an hour or so, and I've already found quite a few friends I haven't seen in years!

I wanted to do a lot more writing with my time off, but I still have a serious case of word constipation. My brain may need a little more time off than I can take to get back in the swing of things in that respect.

 Happy Tuesday!

This photo always gives me a laugh. Can't help feeling they could have worded it a little differently.

Slow-children

No idea where it is.

In Manchester, U.K. there's a rather sad little monument. It's a bronze statue of man sitting on a bench eating an apple. That man was Alan Turing. Among other achievements, he is considered the father of modern computer science. He was a mathematical genius who was influential in breaking German codes during World War II. So, why a monument to him eating an apple?

Alan Turing was also homosexual during a time when homosexuality was illegal in Britain. According to Wikipedia, (In 1952) "He was given the choice between imprisonment and probation, conditional on his undergoing hormonal treatment designed to reduce libido. In order to avoid going to jail, he accepted the estrogen hormone injections, which lasted for a year, with side effects including gynecomastia (breast enlargement). His conviction led to a removal of his security clearance and prevented him from continuing consultancy for GCHQ on cryptographic matters."

 "On 8 June 1954, his cleaner found him dead; the previous day, he had died of cyanide poisoning, apparently from a cyanide-laced apple he left half-eaten beside his bed."

So that is why the sad little monument was unveiled in Manchester in 2001. I was reminded of this when reading this article today, headlined below. It only took fifty years to get this far.

A revolution in the boardroom: Why it pays to be gay

Homosexuals are being courted by employers – from spooks to the city

I think we should erect another monument of a man sitting beside Alan Turing on the bench. It would be of a man with two faces, one eye, no brain, and holding a bible. I'd call it "The True Sin".

Vale Alan Turing.  You'll be remembered long after your accusers.