How my Ron Paul convert converted me to Ron Paul.

I'll admit it. I had no hope to convert Frau or The Captain to being Ron Paul supporters. I was simply happy to have a ride and company. I have been a supporting the Libertarian Party so long, I have grown accustomed to both being marginalized (politically) by nearly everyone, and losing, both in the races, and in discussions. Frau, however not only jumped on Dr. Paul's bandwagon, she wants to drive. We are participating in a letter-writing campaign to Iowa voters, and she is the reason I think I can handwrite 300 letters before Christmas. She is the reason I will be attending my first Ron Paul meetup this Monday. Her excitement has created excitement in me. Gone are the days of Freedom as an intellectual concept. After years of supporting the entire Libertarian Party as a mental exercise, Frau has turned this into something real. I thank you, Frau. Dr. Paul thanks you. And while they
don't know it yet, the American people thank you.

............pation!

With the exception of the day Mothra arrived at our house, this has been the most exciting day of the year. I got to meet the man himself, Dr. Ronald Earnest Paul, the next President of the United States of America. I saw some of the crazy people that you hear about from Dr. Paul's detractors- the 9/11 truthers, the I hate everyone who doesn't look like me anti-immigration people, and of course, the computer geeks. But (and sorry to disappoint), the vast majority of the people I met fell into the category of "normal." I saw: old, young, white, black, Asian, Hispanic, gay, straight, Republicans, Democrats, Libertarians (and lots of libertarians), anarchists, families, single people, extroverts, introverts (harder to find than the extroverts, though), and nearly every other category that you could think of to put people in. Who is this man who can bring all there seemingly disparate people together? Ron Paul. His message? Freedom. http://www.RonPaul2008.com

Sometimes you can be surprised

This flag is in front of a door to a Baptist Church. Just found that interesting

Antici.................

I am here in Philly, staying at Frau's parents' house. (Sorry I don't have a clever nickname for you yet, Frau.) Frau and her husband are not Ron Paul supporters yet, but I am working on that. I can't sleep. I am experiencing the same feeling I did when I first went to Disney World, or the one I still feel every Christmas Eve. Later today I am going to meet one of my heroes. This is akin to meeting Superman. I promise not to tug on his cape. I just hope to get some sleep before then.

Godzilla

Godzilla is my nephew, and as is the case with all the other names on my blog, Godzilla is not his real name. Simply, I am extremely paranoid that someone will find out who I am and start stalking me and my family. This assumes that anyone will ever read what I write, and that assumption seems ludicrous to me.

Eventually, I will break down, and faithful readers of this blog may one day know my address. I know one of the keys to good writing is being specific, and my being paranoid to the point of not be able to talk about anything I care about is definitely at odds with that. I may even post a picture or two of someone I've actually met one day. So, to help the confused reader, I start with this post a series of cast biographies.


Godzilla's pretty amazing, and I want to be him when I grow up. I want to live with the knowledge that if I jump from the seventh step of the stairs, someone will catch me, and if no one catches me, someone will come make me feel better. (Both regular occurrences, except we're lucky if it's only the seventh step.) I want to have heroes again. He thinks I can scare away monsters, and because he thinks it, it's true. He thinks his grandmother knows the lyrics to every song ever written, and his grandfather is the funniest person on the planet.

I fear his sometimes excessive television watching has stunted his imagination, and its use as a babysitting tool started at way too early an age for him. As I have stated previously, I am not home as often as I would like to be, and I have very little control over this. Also, Sunday is for football. This is a tradition he will understand soon enough. Most of his television watching comes under Lost Sheep's (his mother) watch, but those are issues that I'd rather not discuss right now (For Lost Sheep's sake, not for mine).

He lives in a house with Mothra (his sister), Pollyanna (his grandmother), Cuddly Porcupine (his grandfather), and myself. His grandparents are currently his legal guardians. I gave him the moniker Godzilla because he's two, and he's good at it.