I'm a blessed man.

I had gone out to the boat to clean it (reclaim it from the insects) but it was so hot I gave up.

Did the job today, hope to go out this evening.

May God protect our land from enemies both foreign and domestic in the years to come.

Have a Happy Fourth! (and don't blow a finger off)

Let's see if I have this right...

The Feds arrest 11 Russian spies, and Putin Rips U.S. Over Spy Arrests.

And I do.

You will never read my professional writing, but people who have, have complimented me on it.
I have to be readable to those who can read it.
I have to be concise and logical (like Charles Krauthammer), and clever (like Ann Coulter).

And I have to write in different languages and get different entities to work together because of my writing. It can't be divisive.

Now the analogy starts to fall apart.

I write programs that govern robots, presses and other machines.

I just finished writing a robot program to take parts out of an injection molding machine and place them in a trimming fixture. I also wired and programmed the trimming fixture. They only crashed into each other once (eggs, omelets).

My boss complimented me on the wiring, which has a design asthetic itself. Functional, pleasing to the eye, and easily understood.

I then went back to work on another device that will test washing machine consoles after they are built. These are not your mother's washing machines. There will come a day when you will re-boot your washing machine.

I wrote the overall controlling program for this device, but the device was designed by my co-worker, Dave, and he did a fine job. There are other writers involved. I had already written the vision system program that checks the lights and console color.
For a few hours, Dave was writing his robot program (it tests the buttons) and I was writing the data acquisition routine (to see how hard the buttons are to press!) and the IT guy was wriiting his stuff to get the data, tell us he got it, and allow the robot to continue.  Thee guys, three different minds working towards one goal. That calls for some good communication skills, patience and cleverness. At 6PM we decided we'd run out of all three and would try again Monday.

When I was growing up, I never heard my dad sing, that I recall.

My mom used to sing all the time. She had been a nightclub singer, but the nocturnal lifestyle contributed to her loosing parental rights to my older sister, who was my dad's niece.

His brother (her father, a drunk) had left them, or vice versa.

So  my dad would go to the home she was at and visit her. The book/movie "Daddy Longlegs" reminded her of this.

So dad married mom, they got Joan and had me, and Bud and Tom.

But I never heard my dad sing, as I recall.

When I was driving my dad to the store one day, a couple years before he died, I turned on the car stereo, and a CD started playing. It was a recording of my dad singing. He was singing Sinatra love songs. I was surprised.

He had made the recording for my stepmom. She liked his voice. I did too. Who knew?

I was singing in church last Sunday, and I heard my dad's voice. Coming out of me.

Could be worse.

She has applied for an asst. A.G. position, a federal judgeship, law school management positions. Now she wants to be a Supreme Court Justice.

Has she ever worked in a non-political environment?

Held a real-world job?

Like the rest of us?

She's no academic scholar or national legal treasure.

She's a detached liberal idealogue.

Everything is theoretical, as in:

"Let's try this, This should work."

And the corrollary:

"Huh, That should have worked."

By the way:

The Supreme Judge (and our Chief Advocate) suffered like us:

^Heb15For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.

 ^Heb16Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.