We live in exciting times. I grew up in exciting times. You'd think I could be a little more calm about the improvements Obama recently made on his golf handicap but surprisingly I'm not. Before I saw the image above, I used to have a favorite image of what peace felt like. The image was one I learned from a story I heard a decade or two ago. A king wanted the artists of the land to paint the most perfect illustration of peace. As word spread many artists picked up the brushes and began to paint images of fields of flowers or calm blue skies. After many months the king strolled through the courtyard with the best and brightest examples of his loyal countrymen's paintings. The king noted the immense talent and range of beauty and calm on display. But there was one painting in particular that the king could not look away from. The artist had portrayed a stormy picture of a cliff side with ocean waves crashing into the rock wall. Peals of lightning were shown as the rain pummeled the landscape. In the center, in the midst of this raging storm, was a young mother bird sitting in the middle of a small nest located within a large crevice. The mother, ever dutifully, was positioned in front of her young brood as the storm raged on. "This is the one." the king pronounced. "If ever there was an example of peace, it can only be found when the storm rages on." That story has stuck with me ever since I heard it so many years ago. And so, if we look towards the horizon, on the grand politically toxic world stage, we can hear the waves crashing against the rocks. The peals of lightning and thunder come as the world leaders embrace their moment of power and fame. The world is not silent and the danger can be seen if one merely has the courage and discernment to acknowledge it. The old fierce dragon is doing battle with the cunning panda. The bear struggles with the boastful eagle as the bear's territory increases. And in the midst of it all, a man continues his round of golf as the villagers ask "Where is thy king?" . For the difference between my story of old and the man golfing in Florida is immense. The mother bird, in the first story, clings to her hatchlings protecting them. Ever alert to the danger that her surroundings inflict on her brood, the mother stands vigilante in the face of the storm. The fledglings feel secure in the nest as they feel the assurance from their mother that their safety is the highest priority in their mother's agenda. For us, under the care of our mother president, we can feel the storm surrounding us yet do not see our mother. Her interests can be found within her own seclusion from the hatchlings on a million dollar getaway to promote another government program and catch a few rounds of golf. Did I mention he was playing golf? As a newly independent Crimean Peninsula detaches itself from freedom to go back into the folds of the new, yet somehow old, mother Russia, the world stands at bay watching as the President of the United States takes yet ANOTHER vacation. Somewhere, in the distance, a retired KGB officer, snickers to himself. "Let them dream of being American Idols or the Next Top Model. Let these americans fight over LGBT rights. Let them continue to kill off millions of babies and give away birth control. The old ways are still the best." So, if the Russian excursion into the Ukraine is not enough to hinder Obama's vacation schedule, what is? I can imagine, if there was a crisis that would hold back Michelle and O' from tee and tea time, it would probably be closer to November. Because, in the big scheme of things, November elections are the only crisis that hold them spellbound. That's when he'll fight for you and me. When it matters. When it's an election. Forget Russia, Ukraine, Benghazi, Iraq, Afghanistan, Iran, North Korea, Egypt, Syria, or the might of China, the only thing that seems to keep one mother bird close to the nest is her liberal agenda. Thank goodness she's got her her mom's jeans all folded and packed aboard Air Force One. You never know when some critical campaign stop will override the next conflict on the greens. I can only hope his sand traps didn't involve another Arabian Peninsula or middle east province. People - we're in trouble. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog. Email me at rueuhy@gmail.com to really let me know how you feel.
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