Monday, November 29, 2010
Over the past decade or so, whenever Wisconsin would play Northwestern, I would make a point to dust off and don either my UW cap or WISCONSIN sweatshirt for the gameday.
This is not so odd. I was recently down in the chic Old Town section of Chicago and saw any number of post grads wearing Michigan State, Iowa or Illini regalia on game day. I saw one young family where mom, dad and the little kids were all wearing Iowa gear.
But over the past two meetings, for some inexplicable reason, pissant Northwestern got Wisconsin's number and upset them.
It would be more than a little embarassing sauntering thru Evanston with my UW gear on those days. I began to even think that the mere act of my donning that regalia was bringing the Badgers bad luck.
So this past Saturday, I hesitated in putting on the old Wisconsin cap, but finally relented.
My fears were unwarranted.
Wisconsin crushed the hapless Northwestern crew at Camp Randall by the whopping total of 70-23. The UW defensive juggernaut forced 7 -- count them, seven turnovers!
By the second half, the rout was so complete, that I found myself actually pitying the two green freshman quarterbacks that NU had thrust into this maelstrom.
Today the BCS rankings came out and Wisconsin is ranked #5 in the nation -- tops in the Big-10. So Big Red will almost certainly be going to the Rose Bowl.
Earlier this season, in disgust over their loss to Michigan State, I called them the Cubs of the Big-10 -- "loveable losers." I was wrong. I take all that back.
The University of Wisconsin Badgers have bcome the 1927 Yankees of the Big-10 --- "Murderers' Row."
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
WLS radio reported this morning that the Evanston Township High School, in the Obama electoral stronghold of Evanston, IL, was scrapping a number of its honors and advanced placement programs.
The reason, according to ETHS Superintendent, Eric Witherspoon, is that too many whites are qualifying for the program.
Make no mistake about it, Evanston is one of the premier, left-wing Obama strongholds in the entire State of Illinois. The North suburban berg voted 87.14% for Obama in the 2008 Presidential election. According to the Pioneer Press the black precincts of Evanston, delivered 98.03% of the vote for Obama, while even the traditional Republican precincts in that town heaved up 60.8% for him.
This is one very wildly left-wing town -- home of the overt socialist Congressperson, Jan Schakowsky, no less.
So you would think that the educational establishmentarians there, would get into the spirit of their beloved Obama's October 19th Executive Order on Educational Excellence.
In signing it, he said, "It is imperative to improve opportunities for all students and make sure each child has access to a good education ... so that every child has a chance to fulfill their God-given potential."
So you would think that such a lofty pronunciamento would signal a need to maintain special educational opportunities for the gifted student.
But not so for the overpaid unionized "educators" in Evanston. They're into levelling.
It seems that a variety of top-tracked, special honors classes for gifted students who scored in the top 95th percentile of nationally-standardized tests were attracting mostly white and Asian students. And hardly any blacks.
So the solution proposed by Witherspoon & Co.?
Eliminate the honors programs.
In past years they have eliminated senior English honors programs and now they propose to eliminate honors curricula for freshman biology and freshman Humanities.
Witherspoon, who pulls down $230,000 of the taxpayers dollars per year knows on which side his political bread is buttered. That is, of course, in pandering to the left-wing mob of Evanston levellers.
(You can see Witherspoon's salary and the salaries of all ETHS personnel here.)
Funny that this great Obama claque doesn't take the anointed one at face value when he talks about the need for all kids to be given a chance to "fulfill their God-given abilities."
Too bad for the gifted and above-average kids of Evanston, Illinois.
(Evanston Township High School is located at 1600 Dodge Ave., Evanston, IL 60201 | 847-424-7000, http://witherspoon.eths.k12.il.us)
Saturday, November 20, 2010
McDonald's -- the nationwide fast food hamburger chain, is ostensibly a Chicago based institution.
Their corporate headquarters is just outside the city proper, in Oak Brook, IL. Its founder was a Chicago native, by the name of Ray Kroc, who cut his teeth selling paper cups to the Chicago-based Walgreen's Corp. He lived in suburban Northfield, IL. He built his first McDonald's on River Road in Des Plaines, IL. That is now the McDonald's museum.
I know this because I once worked for Golin/Harris, the Chicago PR firm that pretty much made McDonald's what it is today.
On this particular Saturday in Chicago, the moribund McDonald's corporation told the people of Chicago to, basically, piss off.
Why do I say this?
Because there was an historic football game in Chicago today. The first football game to have been played in Wrigley Field in 40 years. It was a contest between two storied Big-10 Chicago teams -- Northwestern University and The University of Illinois. It was an unusual, and oddly interesting game since the NCAA ruled, only yesterday, that the offenses must only align on one-half of the field - due to Wrigley's weird and tiny configuration.
So you would think that the 2,000 or so McDonald's in the Chicago metropolitan area would have had the decency and good business sense to have aired this on the flat screen TVs in all of their hamburger joints.
But what did corporate McDonald's air?
(I am not making this up.)
The Virginia Tech v. Miami game.
There must have been well over 3 people in the entire state of Illinois interested in this game.
When asked about this absurdity, several McDonald's franchisees and corporate managers apologized. They said there was nothing they could do about it since the decision was made by the McDonald's corporate lame-brains in the lavish Oak Brook McDonald's H.Q.
I guess if the Cubs ever make it into the World Series, all of the McDonald's fast food joints in Chicago will be airing the breathtakingly exciting Argentina v. Portugal World Cup Soccer match.
A decision by their Oak Brook McDonald's corporate nitwits, no doubt.
So much for McDonald's being a hometown Chicago firm.
So much for big-business flexibility.
Chicagoan Ray Kroc is probably turning over in his grave tonight.
Friday, November 19, 2010
In perhaps the most stupid decision ever made in collegiate football, the NCAA ruled yesterday that the much vaunted Northwestern-Illinois Big-10 football game at Wrigley Field tomorrow, must take place on only 1/2 of the field.
This game has been in the planning for 8 months. Wrigley's proprietors made alterations to the field so that its spacial limitations would once again accommodate football.
They installed special protective padding to protect players from the wall.
Still, this was not good enough for the liability conscious weasels -- ever fearful of lawsuits -- who run the NCAA.
They ruled just today that all offenses must operate on only one half of the field.
They are afraid that the young college boys might run into the wall, on the small configuration, and hurt themselves.
They are also afraid that some ambulance-chasing, Chicago slickster, liability lawyers might sue them, should that happen.
Funny, the Chicago Bears, who played on that very same configuration from the 1920s until 1970, were not so namby-pampy.
Gale Sayers played there. Dick Butkus played there. "Da Coach," Mike Ditka, himself played there.
They are all football immortals. They are all in the Football Hall of Fame.
I guess the NCAA seems to be saying that Sayers, Butkus and "Da Coach," Mike Ditka were real men playing serious football -- whereas, today, Northwestern University and the University of Illinois have teams comprised of "girly men," who need the NCAA's nanny protection.
I'm just wondering. What happens with "half-court" football?
If a defender intercepts a pass, what does he do?
Catch it and make a U-turn?
This is nuts!!!
NU is apparently bowl eligible as of this writing. (For the "Weed Wacker Bowl," perhaps?) Should they win this ersatz, glorified tag-football game, it should be considered by bowl selection committees that this was a game with an asterisk. Kind of like Roger Maris' 61 homers in a 160 game season.
And should Illinois become bowl-eligible, by virtue of this game, they should be disqualified. It would be unfair to teams behind them, who had to play real football under the established rules of the past 100+ years.
In either event, it won't be of too great avail to Northwestern.
They will have to play the (#6 in the nation)University of Wisconsin Badgers juggernaut next weekend.
The Badgers won't be playing half-court football then.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Today, Melissa Bean, aka The Beaner, finally conceded the victory of Congressman-elect, Joe Walsh over her in the 8th Congressional District of Illinois.
In my humble estimate, this was the greatest victory in the entire election of this past month.
What this meant, was that the people took back the seat that was previously held by the great conservative leader and the intellectual mentor to many of us area young libertarian-conservatives, the great Philip M. Crane.
Phil Crane was the only Illinois Member of Congress to have had the guts to support Ronald Reagan for President, during his (narrowly) losing campaign for President in 1976. (All the other Illinois RINOS were supporting the total loser, Gerald Ford.)
Phil Crane was a founding member of the Heritage Foundation and an early supporter and board member of the Constitutionalist-Libertarian Hillsdale College.
He was chairman of the national American Conservative Union from 1978 t0 1980 and under his leadership, that organization blossomed from a relatively esoteric group into a formidable force in U.S. political life.
Phil Crane was a legend.
This liberal-in-drag -- Ms.Bean -- masqueraded as a conservative for a full 6 years.
But she was finally exposed, and defeated, by Joe Walsh.
This, despite the opposition of the mainstream RINO Republican establishment and the frenetic opposition of the increasingly impotent, mainstream news media (aka the dinosaur news media.)
This is truly the most exciting news of this entire election cycle!!
Congratulations, Congressman Walsh!!
And Bye, Bye, Beaner, Beaner Good Bye!!!
(Her butch feminazi pals are really going to resent the second video -- which contains the singing and photos of what was, arguably, the most truly feminine and elegant woman of the entire past two generations.)
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Lynn Sweet is the most shameless stooge for Obamaism that one can imagine. She writes for the soon-to-be-defunct Chicago Sun-Times. Ostensibly she is their Washington correspondent, but really has been little more than an unpaid PR flack for, first the Obama campaign, and now for what remains of the Obama administration.
By doing this, I suspect that she had visions of vaulting into prominence as the national journalistic Obama expert, much as Lou Cannon became prominent as the Reagan expert and Jeff Greenberg the Clinton expert.
But now, the petals have fallen off the Obama bloom. On the few national talking head shows that will still have her, she simply comes off like a shrill, annoying shrew.
She single-handedly managed to drag what remains of Chicago "journalism" down to a new low in a "commentary" she posted in the CST today.
In it she simply reprinted an entire news release issued by the leftist shill for the illegal alien amnesty movement, "Little Luis" Gutierez, Congressman from Chicago.
He was arguing that the discredited lame duck Congress should sneak through the "Dream Act," before the people's representatives would have a chance to reflect the popular will. This absurdly named measure would provide amnesty for all illegal aliens under age 35, who were in the US for at least 15 years.
From the absurdly named Sweet, no commentary -- no analysis -- just a reprint of a handout from an open-borders hack reprinted in its entirety.
A new low in Chicago journalism. See it here.
Most suspected the Chicago dinosaur media were shamelessly biased.
Now everyone can know definitively.
But I'm keeping a bottle of Moet Chandon chilled and ready to pop open on the date when the struggling Chicago Sun-Times puts its lefty rag to bed for the final time.
The bottle will not be gathering too much dust.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
I don't know how she found the Chicago Lampoon, or how I found her.
But there is a very cool, stay-at-home, mom in the Northern suburbs of Chicago, who has a very cool and funny blog page called, "Why I Think Chicago Sucks."
Here is the link:http://darcsfalcon.wordpress.com/2008/02/22/why-i-think-chicago-sucks/
She is a 40-something girl, with a good hard- working husband and more than a few kids.
She is originally from California and is only stuck in this god-forsaken frozen wasteland, due to her husband's job necessities.
She, like I, has had the good fortune to have lived in nicer climes and nicer places on the planet.
So we both agree -- Chicago sucks.
She is an obviously very nurturing and supportive mom -- since, as she gets various remarks from post-collegiate kids who are just fed up with Chicago --with everything from its crappy weather to its crappy Democrat machine politics to its onerous parking restrictions -- she patiently and supportively agrees and solaces them.
I am a native Chicagoan. Yet,unlike most of the mindless Chicago boosters, I have had the good fortune to have escaped this icy berg, for more than a decade.
I am a Cub Fan and a Bud Man.
One of my ancestors was a Hall of Fame Baseball pitcher for the Chicago White Sox.
My first date in my life was to the Art Institute of Chicago with a really pretty and cool girl from Alvernia High School for Girls on the NW side of the city.
But while appreciating some of what this city has to offer -- I totally agree with Vanessa (aka DarcNess) when she recommends that:
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Editor's note: This is a reprint of the life story and obituary that I wrote 1 year ago about my dog and faithful canine companion, MacArthur, on the anniversary of his passing. It is the longest, and perhaps, most soulful thing that I ever wrote and posted here.
He was my true and fine companion thru everything from blazing Virginia summers to bone-chilling Chicago blizzards.
It has been 4 years since his passing and I haven't yet been able to bring myself to find a replacement for him -- which probably says as much about my personal limitations as it does about his unique and irreplacable qualities.
One thing about the headline, that many may not understand. When the great 5 star General, Douglas MacArthur -- under whom my father served -- gave his famous speech before a joint session of Congress on the occasion of his retirement, his famous statement was "Old soldiers never die -- they just fade away..."
What he meant by that was that many very wonderful American boys in their late teens and early 20s -- like my dad -- who served in his army, died in hellish fighting on the beaches and in the jungles of obscure places -- fighting to preserve our freedom and unique and exceptional American way of life.
And those who survived became "Old Soldiers."
The great General MacArthur was actually belittling himself and paying homage to the young men who died heroically, rather than just "fading away" as old men.
I hope you enjoy the tale of my own, wonderful, MacArthur -- aka -- "Mr. Mackie."
The Tale of MacArthur -- the Extraordinary SuperDog -- First Published in the Chicago Lampoon on November 7th, 2009
Some years back, I was sitting in a bar in River North and as the after work crowd began to filter in, a 20-something guy in a business suit sat on the stool next to me. He was obviously distraught -- actually fighting back tears -- and he explained to me that his dog had just died.
I tried to be as sympathetic as possible, but I thought it rather peculiar at the time -- almost unmanly.
Today I certainly wouldn't entertain such thoughts.
Three years ago today, my faithful canine companion of almost 15 years passed away.
I first met MacArthur at a farm in Winchester, VA.
A farmer by the name of Robert Jewell had posted an ad in the Valley Trader, a local farm newspaper that a co-worker had brought in for me, notifying that he had lab-setter puppies, free to good home. So I called him, got a general description of the 6 week old pups and told him that I would be out to pick up one of the long-haired buff colored males.
I made the 1 hour or so drive from Washington D.C. out to get him.
At Jewell's farm, I saw a group of about 8 or 10 little pups, playfully climbing onto each others' backs and onto the back of a tolerant farm cat.
Jewell said, "Yours is over here," and he went over to a barrel and pulled out little MacArthur. "I knew you were coming and I didn't want him to get away."
Apparantly Mackie was the hellion of the litter -- the obvious alpha-male. The farmer's children had named him "Sebastian," after Sebastian Cabot, the rotund Mr. French in the Family Affair reruns that they watched -- because he ate more than any of the other pups and they figured he would end up being fat.
He obviously had a vigorous spirit and a powerful life-force, something that I would come to fully appreciate over the next decade and a half.
So after letting him say goodbye to his mother and his litter mates, he made the drive with us back to the Nation's Capitol.
I had just read, How to be Your Dog's Best Friend, by the Monks of New Skete, a best selling dog training book at the time and a classic today. The authors suggested that the first few days away from the litter are traumatic for the new pup and suggested that for the for the first few weeks, you should try to recreate the warmth and intimacy of the litter environment by sleeping on the floor with him.
So like a damned fool, I spent the next few weeks in a sleeping bag on the floor with him at night. I was periodically awoken by the sensation of his little snout, nuzzling thru my hair searching for a source of milk.
But it really worked. In our regular walks it became apparent that he had recognized me as the new central force in our new 2 man "litter."
The Clintonistas had just assumed power in Washington, so I was out of a job and had lots of time to devote to him in those early days. That was fortuitous. On the floor of the apartment, we would play with a little ball that I would toss and he was easily coaxed into bringing back to me.
He was an unusually smart dog.
Before long, to my great amazement, he was catching the ball in his little mouth and prancing back pridefully in recognition of my applause.
He was a glutton for attention.
I recall sitting on the floor, reading The Washington Post, only to have a little head push thru the bottom of the paper as if to say, "aren't we supposed to be doing something more important, like playing ball?"
After a month or two, he was so totally bonded with me that when we took our walks in the famous Meridian Park with its massive marble stairway, I could let him off the leash and he would bound down the stairs, turn the corner by a fountain, and when I would whistle and call his name, he would come exuberantly scurrying back up the stairs.
It amazed a friendly National Park Policeman there, that a pup so young would not simply run off. It amazed me too.
So, one thing led to another and we packed up the Mercury Cougar and headed back to Chicago.
A few months later, in our first summer together, some guys saw us along the Lakefront and commented that since he would go about 10 yards, leap in the air and catch a tennis ball in his mouth, I should try throwing him a frisbee.
They handed us theirs and on the second throw, he caught it and brought it back to me.
It was the beginning of a career that would span 21 of the Alpo/Friskies Canine Frisbee Disc Tournaments. The next summer, when he was 1 1/2, we went into the community dog frisbee tournament in Park Ridge and he scored 18 points in his very first competition.
That is like a ballplayer hitting .275 in his rookie season. In a few years, at his athletic prime, he would win that tournament.
We would play frisbee with almost each walk in the park and his dexterity and flair brought amazement and joy to innumerable people who witnessed it -- not the least of which was me.
He lived for it. It was his work -- his job. When I would pick up the leash for a walk, he would run back in and emerge with his frisbee in his mouth -- only then were we ready to take on the outer world.
But it wasn't all work. Mackie had a canine sense of humor as well.
When a good looking chick would come over to chat and ask me about his athletic prowess, he would run over and begin humping my leg with this silly grin on his face as if to say, "buzz off baby, this guy is spoken for and we have important work to do out here."
So much for his being a chick magnet.
And it wasn't all just bird dog retrieving. He was protective too.
On one warm August night, I was sitting on a park bench in Chicago under a lampost, reading a book and he assumed the spot on the cool packed earth underneath the bench. Three punks approached me and said, "hey man, you gotta quarter?" I told them no. Seeing me smoking, they said, "you gotta cigarette?" I said, "not for you." The leader said, "what the hell you mean you don't gotta cigarette for us?" And all of a sudden this white canine head emerged from under the bench -- growling. The growls transformed into loud barks as he moved forward and the three punks began running off with MacArthur in hot pursuit.
He wouldn't have hurt them, but they didn't know that. His protective and herding instincts had kicked in and he was simply herding them out of the vicinity.
Mackie got an extra can of Alpo on his kibbles that night.
As time went on, MacArthur and I engaged in a wide array of activities together. When I would manage a political campaign, he would become the official campaign headquarters dog and would sit under my desk as I pecked away at the keyboard or he would entertain the kids of the volunteers when we adults were having a meeting.
He marched with various political groups in no fewer than a half dozen 4th of July parades, always carrying his trademark frisbee in his mouth and invariably being the main attraction.
And we had our quiet personal moments as well.
When I would be depressed at the events of a given day, the sympathetic Lab in him came out and he would gently put his snout on my knee as if to say, "It's alright buddy."
And in his waning days, he would come up to me and bury his head in my chest as if to say "Can't you make this all better for me, pal?"
In his fourteenth year, cancer had begun to eat away at his once invincible constitution and in the early morning hours of November 7, 2006 the distress became untenable.
I insisted that the nurses at the 911 veterinary clinic in Skokie give him as much morphine as possible, because I didn't want him to go out writhing in pain. They did. And he had a peaceful look on his face as I caressed his face and uttered soothing words as he crossed the River Styx.
He is buried in a peaceful corner of the yard along with his favorite blanket and a ball and a frisbee and his tags and a little note for archeologists to find.
The Catholics and the mainstream Protestants suggest that a dog is merely a soulless chattel, put here for our benefit, but incapable of living on. The Buddhists, however, believe that they are part of the eternal life force and do have a soul.
I would like to believe the Buddhist view.
I would like to believe that at some future time, I might see him again under a warm, blue summer sky on the Elysian Fields and that he would be restored to his full youthful vigor and I in my 30-something vigor would be flinging frisbees 40 yards and he would leap in the air and snare them and afterwards we'd chill out in the waters of the clear, cool spring.
So until then,
Monday, November 8, 2010
I don't know if most Americans have noticed this, but in most major metropolitan areas -- and certainly in Chicago -- it seems a critical mass of Dunkin' Donuts are owned by Muslim Pakistanis.
So, I was told by my old Muslim friend, Moin, are most Subway and Quiznos sandwich shops. He bought a Quiznos franchise in the Northwest suburbs for his son.
According to my friend, Brent, a Texan by birth, anyone who has ever done business with a Pakistani, will do it once -- get burned -- and never do business with one, ever again.
Brent, for some mystifying reason, relocated from Texas to Skokie, Illinois where he opened a marble factory.
He buys marble from around the world. Once some Muslim Pakistanis offered him a deal on marble and they agreed on the price. My Texan friend then committed to doing a project, based on the Paki's promises.
Then when the marble arrived at the Port of New Jersey, the Middle Easterners arbitrarily said the price was about 300% higher than what they had earlier agreed to.
My Texan friend had to buy their product, because he was committed to the end-user, but he told me: "I will never do business with any Pakistani or Muslim -- ever -- again."
And to this day he hasn't.
Brent said that the word is in the marble trade, that Pakistanis are the most ethically challenged business people on earth.
I was reminded of this by an experience at a store owned by one Mr. Amyn Ali of Rosemont.
He is a Muslim who owns quite a few Dunkin' Donuts stores in the Chicago area.
All his stores have a sign in the window which says, "FREE WI-FI."
So when I went into his Dunkin' Donuts at the corner of Howard and Western in Chicago at about 7:30 AM this past Sunday morning, with my laptop in tow, I thought, I'd just enjoy their coffee, check out the traffic to my blog and check out news on the web.
The barely literate, exotic donut girl who gave me my coffee and a French cuiller pastry, said, "use this number to access the wi-fi."
The code, which was as elaborate as the combination to a vault at Ft. Knox, did not work.
When I told her as much, she summoned the manager, "Ali" who came about 15 minutes later, because he was busy doling out donuts at the drive-thru window.
The computer guru, Ali, could not get the secret, ultra cryptogric code # to work on their own Dunkin'Donuts wi-fi site.
So then he just summoned up the AT&T site which was owned by the Starbuck's just across the street.
It had all the Starbucks' logos and all their corporate promotional information.
This, theoretically, is blatantly illegal, but I have only ever heard of one person prosecuted for it and that was in Kentucky.
So the moral of the story is -- go to this, Pakistani Muslim-owned Dunkin' Donuts and, if the breezes are right -- they'll be happy to hi-jack the Starbuck's wi-fi signal for you.
My friend, Brent, still chafing at his experience, insists that Pakistanis are the most ethically challenged business people on the face of the planet.
But that can't be true.
What about the Somali pirates?
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
With the smashing victory of the Republican Party in yesterday's elections (and not just RINO's -- but mostly Constitutionalist, Reaganite conservatives) I think it is time to recall the top 40 anthem of Republican normalcy.
If you want to win money in a bar bet, just ask this question.
"Who was the only Vice-President of the United States to have written a Top-40 rock hit -- in what party was he -- and under which President did he serve?"
The libs will all recommend long-forgotten nitwits like Walter Mondale, Al Gore (well he says he invented the internet) and Hubert Horatio Humphrey.
But the answer is Vice President of the United States, Charles G. Dawes of Evanston, Illinois.
In fact, there is now an elementary school named after Vice President Dawes at the corner of Dodge and Oakton, in Evanston (see photo below)-- and a huge park there named after him, and his mansion off Sheridan Road in Evanston is now an historic landmark (see photo below left.)
He was the Vice President of the United States under the great Republican President, Calvin Coolidge -- who presided over what was, perhaps, the greatest period of American economic prosperity ever to be seen until the eighth decade of the century when the esteemed Ronaldus Magnus, worked his conservative magic from 1980 to 1988.
But how did this 1920s old-timer, Mr. Dawes, have a rock n roll hit in the 1950s?
It turns out that the debonaire Republican Vice President from Evanston was something of a Renaissance man.
For fun, he was an amateur violinist and composer.
So in 1912, in his leisure hours, he composed a work for violin, which he entitled: "Melody in A Major." They liked it back then and it became his signature campaign tune.
In 1951, some pop musicians rediscovered it, appreciated its soft, romantic strains and put words to it.
It was recorded that year by the great, melliflous, black crooner, Tommy Edwards.
It flopped on the charts.
But in 1958, they put 50s- styled do-wop piano strains to it and Tommy Edwards re-released it.
It became the #1 national pop hit.
Listen to it below. You can almost see formally dressed college kids at an Eisenhower-era Sorority or Fraternity formal dance, quietly swaying cheek-to-cheek to this as the slow dance interlude between rollicking bits by Elvis and Buddy Holly.
Interesting that when it was released in 1951, it didn't catch on.
Then the silly Democrat haberdasher from Missouri, Harry Truman, was in the White House.
It only succeeded in 1958, during the calm, prosperous days presided over by the Republican President and former liberator of Europe and North Africa, Dwight D. Eisenhower.
I would guess that GOP Vice President Dawes, would see the cosmic righteousness in that.
We've not yet attained the desired and likely inevitable plateau of Conservative/Republican normalcy. But with yesterday's election results, we just got a whole helluva lot nearer.
Hey -- It's all in the game!!