I do enjoy Sarah Palin--she is a fresh of breath air--but it is Michele Bachmann who hugs at my tart strings.
If for no other reason, and there are a lot of other reasons, our years spent in The Twin Cities became, if not golden at least polished brass because of Michele. The hot, soggy, summer days might weigh one down, and the crust of crystal winter snow blowing back from being blasted into the northwest wind might freeze one's face in ice, but on those days when I made it back into the house alive and well, the news was certain to share some wisdom from Michele.
She has done it, again! Even from the distant reaches of the Sonoran Desert, it is like salvation to hear that Michele has said something--my god! almost anything!--to raise the life of the mind to soaring, ankle-level heights. Now she has explained what it means to have, and to live in a nation with, religious freedom.
Religious freedom is when a Jew can say, "Merry Christmas!" It makes me tingle all over just thinking about that. Think of all the places where a Jew cannot say, "Merry Christmas!".
. . .
That's right! It is a hard task. Maybe in July, somewhere. I don't know. What could a Jew say to show that this is not the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave? But to demonstrate religious freedom?
I cannot say, "Happy Chanukah!" because I do not know how to pronounce "Ch...", so in that land I am not free. I am closer when it is spelled, "Hanukkah", but then the number of "k"s get me all confused.
We own Michele a lot. A lot! Some people overthink things: not Michele! She gets right to it. What do Jews not believe? All that Jesus stuff. What do they hope for their neighbors? A pleasant holiday season. So they say, "Merry Christmas!", and all of us can know that we live in a land where Jews are free to wish well for their neighbors. Does it get better than that? Maybe. Maybe religious freedom is saying "Amen" when the Rev. Foghorn leads us all in prayer for the high school football team in its game against the Daisyfield Unified School Warriors.
You have to give me a moment, here. I am trying to think my way through freedom, and all that. Things get deep, at Michele's end of the pool.
If for no other reason, and there are a lot of other reasons, our years spent in The Twin Cities became, if not golden at least polished brass because of Michele. The hot, soggy, summer days might weigh one down, and the crust of crystal winter snow blowing back from being blasted into the northwest wind might freeze one's face in ice, but on those days when I made it back into the house alive and well, the news was certain to share some wisdom from Michele.
She has done it, again! Even from the distant reaches of the Sonoran Desert, it is like salvation to hear that Michele has said something--my god! almost anything!--to raise the life of the mind to soaring, ankle-level heights. Now she has explained what it means to have, and to live in a nation with, religious freedom.
Religious freedom is when a Jew can say, "Merry Christmas!" It makes me tingle all over just thinking about that. Think of all the places where a Jew cannot say, "Merry Christmas!".
. . .
That's right! It is a hard task. Maybe in July, somewhere. I don't know. What could a Jew say to show that this is not the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave? But to demonstrate religious freedom?
I cannot say, "Happy Chanukah!" because I do not know how to pronounce "Ch...", so in that land I am not free. I am closer when it is spelled, "Hanukkah", but then the number of "k"s get me all confused.
We own Michele a lot. A lot! Some people overthink things: not Michele! She gets right to it. What do Jews not believe? All that Jesus stuff. What do they hope for their neighbors? A pleasant holiday season. So they say, "Merry Christmas!", and all of us can know that we live in a land where Jews are free to wish well for their neighbors. Does it get better than that? Maybe. Maybe religious freedom is saying "Amen" when the Rev. Foghorn leads us all in prayer for the high school football team in its game against the Daisyfield Unified School Warriors.
You have to give me a moment, here. I am trying to think my way through freedom, and all that. Things get deep, at Michele's end of the pool.
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