I’m still trying to reconcile with the untimely suspension of Gov Perry’s campaign from the GOP 2012 race. I don’t do politics well anyway and am still in despair over our loss as a country. Many of you are also trying to regain focus and enthusiasm too, I know.
When the news broke, I felt anger. I really had no outlet available for venting my thoughts so I retreated into a fantasy . Though I guess it’s more properly classified as denial, as I so much wanted to believe that he would be able to stay the course and be proven the best and last man standing in this race, I indulged my deep disappointment by unleashing my imagination. Someway, somehow, there had to be a way to sustain my vision of Gov. Rick Perry riding to victory in Nov. 2012. …………….
It was third and long and Team Perry was in the shotgun formation. Perry drops back, then has to scramble under intense pressure from the opposition. While maintaining incredible composure, he sees there’s no opening and 90% of his offensive line has collapsed to the ground, assuming a fetal position at the line of scrimmage.
Perry gets rappicacked deep in his own territory, but not before he was able to fire off a lateral bullet to Newt Gingrich near the sideline.
Newt starts making his way forward and many in the stands have risen to their feet. Sen. Santorum, after being crushed in the mêlée was back on his feet too; and was last seen attacking the turf with his cleats as he left the field. With sheer brute force, Gingrich is breaking through an onslaught of attackers now and the crowd cheers. But wait. There’s a flag on the field.
Down field there’s mild commotion stirring as Mitt Romney is being led off by Erik Holder’s DOJ officials even as the ball remains in play. Oblivious to the spectacle, Newt continues his plodding drive toward the line of scrimmage. Whispers and mumblings, something about off shore bank accounts, are drowned out by cheers from viewers in the stands and at home as the momentum is now clearly in favor of Newt.
For a time, the rumbling earth went unnoticed as throngs of ecstatic conservatives, intoxicated by the smell of a GOP victory rallied and roared. Not until the appearance of the Morlock Caucus, a bipartisan alliance of beltway zombies, did the conservative fans freeze in stunned silence. As each emerged from the ruptured ground, their faces contorted with treachery and deceit, their eyes ablaze with power lust, these hideous forms trained their attention on Speaker Gingrich.
Swift and savage was the attack. The throat, the loin, the liver, no organ was spared to the Speaker as victory itself was being forcefully extracted by the dreadful GOP King Makers. So it could only have been by divine providence that a flailing, quivering arm propelled the victory orb into the air. *(Think Garo Yepremien, Super Bowl VII). But, to whom?
Standing tall at the scrimmage line is one man. The carcasses of pundits and naysayers, shallow thought leaders and summer soldiers still litter the ground around him. But with steady hands, he grasps the victory orb, clutches it to his chest and makes his way to the end zone. Rick Perry was temporarily down but not out. He is and always was the one to take Team America out of the wilderness of uncertainty and restore decency and principled leadership to the White House……….
I put on my lab coat and make my way to class. As I approach the podium, I am back in reality and aware that it never has been my desire to be a King Maker and my sphere of influence in politics will always be extremely limited. But my role, my significance in this life has always been well defined and satisfying, if humble. If my lessons challenge students to think more clearly, to accept that acquisition of knowledge and pursuit of truth are active and not passive endeavors, I want to think I will have contributed to a generation of responsible Americans better prepared to make good choices in all spheres of their lives.
Good choices, made with confidence, unlikely to waver or succumb to group think is what I had hoped for from the electorate in this campaign primary season. Perhaps with a little more time.