Fall evenings call for open windows, fifty-five degree night air refreshing the house after months of stagnant air conditioning.

Last night was a cool and interesting one. Our entire brood swaddled in quilts, long wool pelts, and down comforters, watching closely as the republican presidential hopefuls showed another glimpse of themselves under pressure, under scrutiny, and under severe time constraints (although some kept talking despite the fact that the mic had been passed).

Can we all agree that our choices this time are exceedingly better than the last go around? If nothing else, we have a great deal of variation in our candidates, which for most, will help along the process of who should indeed get on the ticket.
Also interesting are the pairings, either accidental or otherwise. Trump and Cruz seem to be heading to an understanding, if not already. And Cruz would certainly make an excellent Dick Cheney. Dick Cheney having been one of the most intelligent Veeps of all time. He taught at West Point when my husband was there, cadets mesmerized with the vast amount of knowledge he effortlessly conveyed in a matter of an hour.
But something peculiar happened last night in our king sized bed. Something that disturbed me. I realized that my husband and I are positively growing apart politically.
As the children tallied the amount of apparent "wins" on clipboards when their favorite candidate received applause, the husband and I found ourselves arguing over points and hot topics for the very first time in our sixteen years together. No only do we not support the same candidates (this is fricticious because we share money but do not agree on who’s campaign to support).
The fact is that my husband is on-fire for Trump yet my confidence lies in slow hand of Rand Paul. Does he seem presidential to me? No. But I’d argue that he would best the most intelligent man to unify our nation again. I was a bit paralyzed myself when I realized (as a recovering fundamentalist) that I support someone who intends to decriminalize pot. Last year at this time I was railing against the same kind of legislation here in Maryland, and now I’m approaching resignation. How can that be? Paul explained exactly why I have changed my mind…because rich kids and poor kids need to have the same rules regarding drug possession. The federal government has miserably lost the war on drugs, so why not let states manage themselves?
And then was the topic of gun control…I’m an excellent shot and feel pretty comfortable with heavy metal in my hands, especially under my husband’s supervision….but I’ve lost a very dear friend to a mentally ill person who bought a gun at a gun show with no background check. In my opinion, someone with a lifelong debilitating clinical psychiatric diagnosis should not be allowed to own or possess a gun. My husband was really torqued when I dropped that bomb. I’d essentially broken an unspoken vow…the marital equivalent of me getting a buzz cut and a jock strap.
My argument when it was time to pay bills last week? Donald Trump doesn’t need our money, so we may as well send it to someone who can do something more productive than pick apart the appearance of his opponents, all of which are more well-spoken than he. Trump certainly had the most confidence on stage but he distinctly reminds me of a certain bully in middle school. If only honed intellect trumped business acumen.
Another likely pairing emerged last night, that is, Rand Paul and Ben Carson. I commented on Roger Simon’s Ben Carson "High Noon" article in PJ Media earlier this week, which didn’t go over so well with Trump supporters. Regardless, I’d love to see two doctors running this country rather than more lawyers. I’m moving more to the right than ever, and Christie, who has done great things for New Jersey, even seemed a little baffled when asked what exactly he’d do with Hillary Clinton (referring to Bengazi).
This is shortly after Ohio’s John Kasich refused to discuss Hillary on any level. After hearing his speak (doublespeak), it seemed to me that perhaps he should run for Sam Kutesa’s position next go-around. If Kasich’s elected President of the United States, I have a feeling we will be joining the E.U. shortly after under Kasich’s scared rabbit leadership. He’s another that’s shook hands across isles, but if he says "with our allies" one more time I’ll relinquish my status as a former resident of Ohio. Which leads me to the title of this post…
This morning, I spent fifteen minutes making the utmost delicious coffee in three counties. Tanzanian AAA, roasted and delivered the next day from Zeke’s (in Baltimore, of course). I carefully emptied the oily brew from my Dutch press (my new favorite toy) into my The Weatherman mug, then swished my half-and-half around in the carton before adding it to my burnt bean juice.
The cream looked like cream. The cream smelled like cream. It was floating at the top like cream. But it was not cream. It was chunky, broken cheese curds bobbing atop my precious morning high. Watching those cream impostors swim in my carefully crafted coffee piqued an association. A reminder of why the Republicans did not win the last election when they should have. Reason? Our candidate was not a true conservative. Let us not nominate another luke warm conservative, a John Kasich, who seems better suited to Democrat voters tastes.
He may look like cream and call himself cream, but he’ll just be just another cheese in our collective conservative coffee.
An aside, I’d like to personally thank Carly Fiorini for the most illustrative, albeit graphic speaking sequence. She nailed exactly why anyone who supports Planned Parenthood is subhuman after the organization has been exposed for what it truly is, essentially a black-market child mutilation and live tissue harvesting scheme funded by the taxpayers. I only wish that my eleven-year-old daughter hadn’t heard that. She exited the room, weeping, in disbelief that such practices were acceptable to anyone, let alone our President and former Secretary of State.
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