The Bucket List is Empty

It has been many, many years, since the day I knew I had see “real” polar bears. Polar bears that weren't sad like the polar bears in the zoo. A lot of miles and what could be a lifetime worth of adventures later it was time for me to go. I didn’t realize that all the detours in the five decades between knowing I needed to go and going were meaningful. Without them, I would not arrive at the southwestern shore of Hudson Bay for an experience that could not be matched at any other time.

Beginning on my 55th birthday, Karla began planning for a trip that would cross off the last item on my bucket list: I wanted to see polar bears in the wild.

26 October 2015
We landed in Churchill on a beautiful, clear day. There’s not much to Churchill. Nine hundred people, a few stores and restaurants, some repair shops, and houses. Still, it’s a tourist mecca of sorts and a sign that defined why our group made its pilgrimage:

WELCOME TO CHURCHILL
The Polar Bear Capital of the World

It may be a self proclaimed title, but we’re believers.

We are a twenty-eight strong group of travelers all awaiting our first sighting of the same majestic creature. There are other animals we would like to see, but there is only one we HAVE to see. The sighting is so intrinsic to our journey that the outfitting group promises a free return trip if the group does not see a polar bear.

As we left the bus at the staging area transfer from bus to Polar Rover, our male guide, Rinie, pointed out, “This will be the last time you walk on land for four days.” It brought to mind going to sea. Instead, the ride across the tundra was like crossing a moonscape.

The driver stopped the rover and we all knew what that signified. There was a mad dash to the windows… on both sides… until he told us where the polar bear was. Off to the left at 10:30 lying in brush and dreaming of seals was a lone polar bear. He didn’t move a muscle the five minutes we were there. Someone asked the driver how he spotted the bear. “He was lying there when I brought the rover out this morning.” I’m a cynic, and wondered if this was only an inflatable bear to make sure the free return trip policy was not to be invoked.

It didn’t matter.

Twenty minutes late, approaching the Tundra Lodge, our home for the next four days, a polar bear was lumbering across the tundra to our left. To the right, under the Tundra Lodge, another polar bear was sleeping.

Just after we boarded the Lodge, our female guide, Leah, notified us that two males were on the far side of the Lodge, and with the observation bays packed with people and cameras clicking and buzzing like hundreds of insects, we witnessed our first sparring. Sparring, we would find out later, is somewhat unique to the West Churchill population of polar bears.

Leah began her pre-dinner presentation “All About Polar Bears.” The reason the polar bears gather near Churchill is waiting for ice to form on Hudson Bay. To put Hudson Bay in perspective, it has two-thirds the surface area of Alaska and twice the surface area of Texas. Proving once and for all that not everything about Texas is bigger.

Once ice forms on the Bay, ring seals will claw through the ice to create breathing holes. Polar bears consider the breathing holes to be sushi bars. And they sit at as many sushi bars as possible until the ice breaks up because even though the polar bear population does not hibernate in the traditional sense, they also do not eat between the Spring thaw and the next freeze.

There are nineteen distinct populations of polar bears, with the polar bears of the West Hudson Bay region, where Churchill is located, being one of the nineteen. Overall, it is believed that the worldwide polar bear population is currently stable at 20,000 – 25,000, but given their range and their penchant for solitude, neither an exact count nor a population trend can be certain.

The above three paragraphs were about all that I took in before someone interrupted with “Look at the moonrise.” And a beautiful, one-day-short-of-being-full moonrise snuck up over the flat landscape of the eastward tundra. That was captivating until someone said…

“Arctic fox!” and we all moved to the other side of the rover. The presentation would wait until after dinner.

27 October 2015
2:48 a.m. – “NORTHERN LIGHTS! NORTHERN LIGHTS.” Before we were off to bed, Leah pointed out how clear the skies were. Clear skies and sun spots increase the chance for a showing by the Aurora Borealis. She also warned us that if the phenomenon occurred, she would wake everyone up for at least a yes/no response of interest. She did not need to go door-to-door. All doors were open in seconds.

Some of the occupants were outside before putting on their warm clothes. I was not one of those people. Once the door opened, those people’s excitement typically gave way to reality and they were heading back to grab their parka.

The Aurora Borealis we were watching were more mesmerizing in pictures than by the eye. We watched as a moving cloud in the sky became excited by the radiation and heat sent from 93 million miles away, but the depth of color that showed up on “film” was more breathtaking.

Even the excitement of the Aurora was not enough to keep me giddy and awake. After a few more hours of sleep, it was time to rise and… watch for polar bears. The hell with shining. The new day arrived with an orange horizon and Jupiter, Venus and Mars racing each other in the eastern skies. Jupiter was winning as of the last minute we could view the race.

Instead of a morning “safari” out on the Polar Rover, Rinie and Leah thought we should stay at the Lodge. The bears had been active near the Lodge the day before, and as Rinie said, “why go chasing after sightings when there is a good chance of seeing something here?” And seeing we did.

A total of nine polar bears, including a mother and cub that swam across a lake within sight of the Lodge. After reaching the shore, the mother led her cub on a path that skirted our perimeter and avoided the male bears that were entertaining us with sparring and sleeping sessions near the Lodge. I hope the picture of the mother sliding across the ice chin first is clear enough to print. It is the picture I have had in my photographic hope chest for many, many years.

Rinie announced the Polar Rover was leaving at 1:00 p.m. There was no question I might see something new. Still, after a filling lunch of (gluten-free) beef pie and salad, I decided to sit back and digest the visual feast of morning. I am hoping my fellow travelers come back with tales and pictures of time well spent.

28 October 2015 I miss my wife!
Karla and I enjoy the gift of being extremely compatible travel mates. We enjoy both travel and sharing the nature, sights and cultures. However, we do not share the ability to enjoy cold weather.

I know Karla would be in enthralled by polar bears, Arctic Fox, and Snowy Owl sightings. I also know she wouldn’t be able to walk by now. The pain that the cold weather would be levying on her would be eclipsed by the pain she would be experiencing from sleeping on a plywood bed frame and thin mattress. To survive in the Hudson Bay area, one needs to be durable.

Another survival skill is to be satisfied with little steps of progress.
Less than a quarter mile from the Lodge, or since this is Canada, just under 500 meters, is a tree with a trunk less than a foot in diameter and under 30 feet tall. Rinie pointed out the tree this morning and told us that the tree was cored a few year ago. The results: The tree is close to four hundred years old. Brush and small trees less than five feet tall that began their lives forty to fifty years ago.

Today was my first trip on the Rover since we arrived on Monday.I noticed that the ice sheets had grown since our trip in. Two days and the beginning of Hudson Bay’s winter embrace was visibly noticeable.
I am surprised at the opportunity for education at the Lodge. I thought I just wanted to see polar bears, but our outfitter, Natural Habitat, is affiliated with the World Wildlife Fund, and they want us to be able to embrace and appreciate more than just the visual experience. One can come and just look at the bears, but our group is interested in more than just pictures.

Leah and Rinie give us one or two presentations each day. As is often the case, the sex talk is the most memorable. Did you know…

1/3 of the females in a polar bear population are available for mating annually. The remainder are caring for COY (cubs of the year) or yearling cubs.

Scientist recently discovered that available females secrete pheromones through their foot pads so that interested males can track them.

The intercourse occurs between April and June and most females ovulate two eggs, and…

Often receive sperm contribution from more than one male.

The eggs of all females do not implant into ovaries and begin gestation until the last two weeks of August, and…

All cubs are typically birthed within a week of the first of January.

Happy New Year! You’re a Momma Bear.

Denning behavior and distribution presentations are very detailed, and I will keep this to a couple points. The average polar bear’s home range is 6,000 square miles, but can extend up to 100,000 square miles. There is a belief that the reason for bear populations to be distinct and stay in the same region is that females tend to return to the same denning areas each time they have cubs. Moms are responsible for keeping the family together.
Hunting behaviors, like dialects, vary across Polar Bear Nation. Rinie gave a presentation that was captivating. Pun intended. More on that topic later.

The morning ride was picture rich. Over two hundred eighty shutter clicks on my camera, which have been pared down to around one hundred twenty-five. A Snowy Owl was the new sighting of the day. My major goal today was to take the picture for our 2015 Holiday Card.

I think I was successful. But I have to wait to return to Mill Valley and share the pictures with Karla and see if she agrees.

29 October 2015 
OK. I was wrong. TODAY I got our 2015 Holiday Card picture. I also had a momentary feeling of individual connection with one bear in the midst of all the buzz of our fellow travelers.

This morning I knew I was on the last game ride that I would make on this adventure. Late into our ride, a female polar bear walked up to the rover. On the Rover, her approach evoked the familiar staccato click of camera shutters. After she came to the side of the rover, I stopped taking pictures. I just wanted admire her beauty and grace without a camera between us. Her head turned up to our observation deck and I was looking directly in her eyes. We locked eyes and I would not look away. It was a moment of spirits touching.

After several seconds, she turned away. In my thoughts I thanked her and all of her fellow travelers for sharing their time with us. I wished safety and a winter of excellent hunting.

She walked away to meet another rover. Staying near rovers can be a safe haven for a female when male bears are around. The males are less likely to be aggressive when the rovers are present.

We moved on, but had to circle back quickly in order to return to the Lodge. Almost as soon as we were within a quarter mile, my new friend left the other rover behind to greet our rover one last time.  While she was still some distance away. I took a picture of her approach and documented a feeling of connection I will not forget.

30 October 2015 
The “whos” of our group have made my enjoyment tick up a notch. Like Spinal Taps’ amps, my time here has been an “11” thanks to my Lodge mates.

Our guides Rinie and Leah are simply put World Class. I’m cannot catalogue all of the ways that they contributed to making the experience perfect. Above, I indicated there would be another mention of hunting behavior is you may have seen the video at the bottom of this link: Polar Bear Stalk Dive. Our Rinie is the Rinie quoted in the article.

As expected, individuals braving the Tundra Lodge are not timid travelers. Still, I’ve spent four days with a group of engaging people who don’t seem to define themselves by what they do or did in their occupation, although when pressed they would discuss that piece of their life.

They also don’t define themselves by where they’ve been. No subtle contests of “I’ve been here and here and here.” They all have rich experiences that they are willing to share, but they also enjoy listening to the adventures of others. Maybe to plan their next adventure, or maybe just to relive the cherished experience they had in a similar place. There are trials being faced by one couple in particular. Health-related trials. But they left those trials in Connecticut to add Churchill to the treasure chest of memories of their lives together. Their presence as members of our group have added to the richness of my adventure.

We left the Lodge well before dawn to spend some time in Churchill before flying back to Winnipeg today. Churchill is a town of about 900 strong, and since Churchill is remote and there are no roads "to" Churchill, everyone and every thing needs to be brought in by air or train. Hence, it is expensive to buy even food staples. The townspeople here have been good hosts in their part of staging our visit, and spending some time and money is only appropriate.

It seems all of us are sad to be at the end of this adventure. There’s some discussion about a reunion, but in reality, we know that we all will be off to other adventures. Some soon. Some not so soon.

After a four day off-the-grid radio silence, one of Karla's first questions was “What was your most special moment.” She had to ask me to repeat myself after I blubbered through the story of my special moment.

Later, at our Farewell Dinner, the same question went around our table of six. A woman at our table had a separate moment with a similar feeling of connection with one of the fifty-plus bears we had shared space with during our time at the Lodge. She too described her feeling of individual connection with one bear in the midst of all the buzz of our fellow travelers. This time, I kept my blubbering to a minimum.

One of the women in our group noted “Usually on trips like this you spend the first day figuring out who the assholes are. We didn’t have any assholes.” It was true.

A pang of sadness hit me at dinner. In the past, even when I have left behind grand experiences, I have been able to hold onto the shared memories with Karla, and we can savor them at any time. After tonight, the 27 other parts of my shared memories will be heading in different directions. Rinie and Leah will take them back to the Lodge beginning Monday, and the rest will be scattered as far away as New Zealand.

Even so, at 56, the first edition of my Bucket List is empty. Although, at this moment, my bucket of fulfillment is overflowing.

IRONY: Flags, Feathers, and Bird Brains

I often find irony bemusing. After we dropped off Rue-Murre (discussed below) at Wildcare in San Rafael, our car was second in line waiting for a traffic light to change. The vehicle in front of us had a bumper sticker:

BUY AMERICAN
While You Still Can

The illustration next to the statement was an American flag fraying and a Japanese flag emerging from the shredded red and white stripes.

The vehicle was a Toyota pickup. Irony===>Bemusement.

Earlier, we came across Rue-Murre while taking an early morning walk at Muir Beach. He was sitting motionless, and Karla snapped a few photographs before we realized that we were so close, he must be in distress. Karla approached, and Rue-Murre let her touch him. Not good.

When Karla went to take a step toward me to hand me the camera, Rue-Murre flapped his wings, stood and rubbed against her as if to say, “Please don’t leave.” When she finally reached under Rue-Murre to pick him up, his body was frigid. There was no question he was close to full hypothermia.

We wrapped him in a shirt and headed back to the car. At the trailhead there was a large group of people in a circle. Several of them had Greater San Francisco Bay Area Team in Training shirts. I thought that there was some chance someone might be a ranger or birder ready to lead a hike, and walked over to the group.

I approached and stood behind the man speaking who had on attire that was closer to a “ranger” look than anyone else. When he stopped talking and acknowledged me, I excused myself and asked if anyone was a ranger or a birder. No ranger. One birder.

I explained that we had found a distressed bird on the beach and  and a couple of people who offered the name Wildcare. However, a woman in an orange fleece with a clipboard said “sometime it’s just better to let Nature takes its course.” When I walked away, less than 45 seconds after approaching the group Ms. Clipboard also felt it necessary to apologize to the man for the interruption.

Now, there is no way of telling if this was a Team in Training meet up or if some friends who are also involved in TnT wore there t-shirts to an independent meet up. I can be confident that this was SOME sort of support group because after I closed the car door for Karla, the gentleman that was speaking stopped and Ms. Clipboard walked over and gave him a hug while the group quietly clapped.

I have seen zebras in the wild abandon an injured member of the herd that was bleeding to avoid attracting predators to the herd. I’m not saying zebras or murres are more valuable that humans. However, I am saying that any living being is worth effort. That’s why there are support groups. That is why there is Wildcare.

“Let Nature take its course.” Irony====>Definitely NOT bemusement.

There is no happy ending. When we checked on Rue-Murre this afternoon, despite Karla’s nurturing, and using her body and sweater to warm his body, Rue-Murre was too emaciated and beaten by Nature to survive. He was one of several Common Murre juveniles that Wildcare’s staff believes blown away from their male parent in a storm while migrating over the Pacific ending up on our Northern California shores. Few survived.

I know in the end no animal, humans included, will beat Nature. It just sucks a little bit more when you personally experience Nature coursing off to an undesired destination.

Slide on the Ice

Allen Arbus, the actor who played Dr. Sidney Freedman and personified good psychiatry in the madness of war, passed away this week. The last words spoken by Dr. Freedman as the Korean War was winding down to a cease fire were: “You know, I told you people something a long time ago, and it's just as pertinent today as it was then. Ladies and gentlemen, take my advice - pull down your pants and slide on the ice.”

I remember Sidney’s exit clearly. He was one of my favorite, and certainly the most underutilized characters on M*A*S*H, but the reason I remember it was that just over 30 years ago when Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen aired, I was like a the rest of a huge audience in front of the television. I HAD to be in front of the television, because VCRs were too expensive to afford for me and my (then) bride in 1983.

To make matters worse for Irene, she couldn’t be in front of the television. She was a full-time student, with a full-time job, and Monday nights were her regular closing nights at the store. When she got home, she conveyed that at exactly 30 minutes before the episode was airing, the entire mall, not just her store, the entire mall, emptied out. She could have watched a small TV in the back room, if we could have found one that somehow got reception with rabbit ears in the cavernous back areas of Briarwood Mall.

Fortunately, ne of our friend’s fathers owned an appliance store, and he recorded the show for Irene on a VCR in his store. He even stayed in the store to make sure it recorded properly since VCRs weren’t the most reliable technology. Still, Irene had to wait until we found a way to visit friends with a VCR in their home. “Hi, how are you doing? Mind if we use your VCR for 2-1/2 hours?”

That was thirty years ago. Today, I can’t walk into an elevator in my office building without having a TV screen in front of my face, and I can stream television shows on my phone. VCRs are an obsolete technology.

But what isn’t obsolete is the humanity that one man brought to one character, that my mental VCR will always have on tape.

Yes Nancy, You ARE Part of the Problem

Karla and I watch The Daily Show for laughs, and often a great interview. Like November 8, when Former President Clinton came on and gave a very interesting perspective on getting Americans back to work. His thoughts were precise, cogent, and practical.

Then came November 9 and Nancy Pelosi. She reminded me that the phrase Democratic Party Leader is an oxymoron. Heavy emphasis on moron.

The topic of discussion was Congress' 9% approval rating. Ms. Pelosi's response was that in early 2009, when the Democrats lead the House, the approval rating for Congress was in the low 40% range. And not only was that her first response. She kept coming back to it. Again and again.

• First, low 40s could also be read as almost 60% failure. Just saying...
• No acknowledgment that it was the miserable leadership of the House that set up conditions for 2010
• No understanding that in 2009, Americans were giving Congress the benefit of the doubt about solutions that never came
• And the thing that disgusted me the most (and I have been a Democrat my entire voting life) - Having the audacity to ignore the above and make the miserable failures of Congressional leaders and members a political plug.

Ms. Pelosi should remember if you are not part of the solution, you are part of the problem, and she is soooooooooooooooo not part of the solution.

Memorial Day 2010

I spent some of this Memorial Day touring the Golden Gate National Cemetery. It was my part in honoring those men and women who have given their time, many of whom sacrificed their lives, in order to keep the American Dream alive.

This is one of many, many National Cemeteries countrywide, and as I walked between monuments and looked out across the horizon, I added one more item to the list of things I cannot wrap my mind around. In this instance it is the number of people it has taken to make heroic contributions to our Nation. The presence of monuments to spouses and children also are a reminder that sacrifice goes beyond the soldiers.

So I will finish today giving thanks to all who have fallen, all who have served, and all who sacrificed through their loved one serving to protect our country.

Photos from Golden Gate National Cemetery

Golden Gate National Cemetery - Memorial Day 2010

What Were You Doing April 21, 1982?

It was a Wednesday. Twenty-four days before my first wedding. And nothing of any apparent note happened in MY life.

However, on April 21 1982, the thirty-ninth President of the United States, a man vanquished from office after one term, was the subject of an announcement at Emory University. On that day President Jimmy Carter was appointed as University Distinguished Professor, and effective September 1 of that year he would establish a policy research center. The Carter Center was conceived, if not officially birthed.

Today I watched a recent video report by Nicholas Kristoff of the New York Times about the near eradication of the Guinea Worm parasite. (WARNING: This video includes graphic images.) Mr. Kristoff is reporting (and op-editorializing) from Africa, and as one would expect, the work arising out of this junket is not given to smiley, happy feelings.

You might ask "What's so big about eliminating Guinea Worm?" To put it in perspective, it would be only the second disease in history that humans have eradicated, and the Carter Center is one of the key participants in pushing for the final solution. Of course, President Carter is not accomplishing this feat by his actions alone.

But here's the point. In the twenty-nine years since he was routed in an election that would have sent many people into a bitter retirement, Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter have dedicated their lives to try and make the world a better place for many millions of people. Their work has lasted over one-half of my life span to date and for the millions their work has helped there are ten of thousands of people that have also played a role.

One person's vision creating action in thousands. He may not (probably will not) be ultimately remembered as an exceptional President. However, Jimmy Carter is an outstanding leader of compassion and action that we of Planet Earth are fortunate to have.

Gold Medal Intolerance

It’s Winter Olympics time again. Two weeks of being amazed by athletes performing feats that result in serious eye and neck strain to average humans watching the competition from the comfort of their couch.

Each Olympics brings with it an inevitable quest to earn national alpha dog status in the international community of bragging rights, which allows overweight slobs around the world to lay some unexplained claim to achievement when their countrymen or countrywomen are victorious. Also, based on a recent Facebook exchange, it authorizes the same individuals to let their “patriotic” intolerances fly.

In the USofA, freedom of speech is everyone’s right, to the extent it has been deemed protected by judicial review. So a person who uses that right to burn a flag in protest IS just as protected as the person who speaks out for a Constitutional Amendment against such an act. And it is my right to say that, in my humble opinion, both of those individuals are terribly misguided and possibly mentally unbalanced. But how must you act when you win a gold medal? Well, according to one of my Facebook “friends”: “USA Kearney wins the GOLD. National Anthem is played. She does not sing or put her hand over her heart. Alot of bloodshed for our freedom, girlfriend. Leave my country.”

I watched a video of the medal ceremony (Warning: video requires installation of Microsoft Silverlight). Hannah Kearney did not put her hand over her heart, which according to official protocol was inappropriate. She did however keep her eyes trained on the flag, (the only other requirement of the official protocol) with tear-filled eyes. Those eyes seemed to carry joy, shock, and amazement. She kept her hands still and in front of her clutching the winner’s bouquet. Her arms seemed to be trembling and there seemed to be no way that reasonably minded person would interpret Ms. Kearney's omission as an action of disrespect.

Beyond that though, where the hell does somebody come off reading that Ms. Kearney was somehow dissing all the “bloodshed for freedom”? There must be an edition of Intolerance for Dummies that advises readers to make their case by throwing in an emotional phrase, thus allowing the fellow intolerants, to accept the statement carte blanch. But I will get to the other intolerants later.

Finally, there’s her “Leave my country.” This is from a person who works for a law enforcement agency.

Maybe I slept during Civics in high school, but I thought I heard somewhere that, especially in the USA, law enforcement is a field where evidence, presumption of innocence and no cruel or unusual punishment are supposed to reign. Yes, we saw the omission, but put in perspective it is doubtful that it was intentional. Perspective being that less than an hour earlier, Ms. Kearney was in a mentally focused “zone” that allowed her to win. It is a mental focus that many Americans never achieve except when they are engulfing their Thanksgiving meal.

Even so, is expulsion a reasonable punishment for an omission? If expulsion is the sentence for Ms. Kearney’s fopaw, I’m afraid to know what will happen when I confess something here. Although I make it a point to stand, face the flag, put my hand over my heart, and sing when the National Anthem is played, there was a Tigers' game in 1989, when my stupid cousin kicked a beverage over on me. On that day, I spent the entire time from “Oh say” to “home of the brave” silently swearing at him while wiping sticky liquid off my pants and shoes. I now have to hope those action do not qualify me for lethal injection. So Ms. Kearney, if I’m on the jury you can stay in my America.

I wrote what I thought was a gentle nudge toward a more level approach to my Facebook "friend". Don't agree JLA. In our country of all countries, we should be big enough to accept differences in actions and not judge someone else's patriotism by what we see vs. what we would do or would want to see.

Then, the other intolerant friends of "friend" began to weigh in.

Put her on the first boat with all the rest of the people that dont want to be here!!!!!Than sink it!!!U.S.A. all the way!!!!

Obviously this person didn’t have the intellectual originality to come up with anything worthy of considering, unless he’s a ship builder. This rant has probably been around since Noah put the people he DID like on a boat so they wouldn’t drown. I’ve heard about putting “undesirables” on a boat and sinking the ship many times. To list a few, the “undesirables” have been lawyers, African Americans, lawyers, Jews, lawyers, the New York Yankees, liberals, Muslims, lawyers, the special class consisting of liberal African American Jewish Muslim lawyers, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Unfortunately, I don’t think the contributor of the above is bright enough to understand that you can make the suggestion, but unless you make the final passenger list, you might end up on the boat.

The next comment was from a person who, in taking a pure capital investment approach, did not allow facts to get in her way. You should have to be PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN and SHOW IT to get benefits and my tax money from this country and take a drug test !!! Cheers.

I’ll give this woman an A for originality, but like an ice skater that keeps landing wrong, she gets an F for execution. The United States Olympic Team is one of the few teams that does not receive public funding. (See link) So based on her own argument since she has no tax money invested, she has no say in what the athletes do, otherwise known as the STFU Principal. This is especially apt when this woman’s investment of keeping her self-righteous ass on a couch or in front of her computer is compared to the time and money that Ms. Kearney and her parents invested in leading up to the gold medal performance.

As respects drug testing, the IOC is somewhere around 40 years ahead of this woman, and Hannah Kearney had met the IOC’s requirements even before she went to the podium.

As the intolerance started, so did it end. The final “say” by the originator was: You guys are so right !! Sorry Gary, in this great Country, the National Anthem is not judged, nor is it a choice. Just accepted & loved. Like our Flag. God Bless America !!!

Intolerance for Dummies must also emphasize the strength of a good circular argument by agreeing with other like minded people and adding new and more emotionally charged terms, that really have nothing to do with the facts or the matter at hand. I don't claim to be the final authority, but I also have not read any rants in any publication conservative, neoconservative, or neanderthal, that asserts that Ms. Kearney was being intentionally disrepctful of the flag. Hence, I still find it difficult, if not impossible, to understand how anyone in their right mind could think that the National Anthem was being “judged” at that podium.

So JLA, for your actions, you are receiving this week’s gold medal in intolerant mindsets and actions. There’s no award ceremony, but please feel free to sing the Star Spangled Banner as many times and in as many locations as you want. That is always OK here in my America, the Land of the Free.