Well I've just gotten home from the Obama rally, followed by a stop at the movie theater at Sony Center.  I want to diary my experience at the rally and share some eyewitness details for all of you who were not able to attend.  I do apologize that I don't have photos, but by the time I got there it was too dark to use my iPhone camera...

Please allow me to introduce myself: I am a man of wealth and taste.

Well, not really.

I just got back from a tour of Berlin with a German family that I'm staying with: the parents of an exchange student that we hosted a few years ago. We ended the day with a quick visit to a park. There, we saw my future president, two hundred thousand Germans, and history.

I am so mad right now I don't know what to do.  For those unfamiliar with me, I live in a small, conservative, republican town in Georgia.  I just had a HUGE argument with my next door neighbor.  After seeing my new shiny Obama sticker on my van, she launched into an attack on me that was unprovoked and very unsettling.  She asked me why he couldn't say the pledge of allegiance to which I replied, that is not true.  I then explained the details of various lies and smears.  She continued to bring up every smear out there from the pledge to the swearing in on the Koran.  I told her she needed to check her facts as these had all been disproved.  She then asked, "So if he is a Muslim, and did swear on a Koran, then would you still support him?"  I explained that I would support him because a person's religion is not an important factor to me.  Which is when she said, "I hope if he gets elected, that he is shot and killed within 24 hours!"

I received an email today from Kerry for Senate asking me to sponsor his fundraising ride in the PanMass Challenge.

...I've never asked you for anything more important than this.

Next weekend I'm riding in the Pan Mass Challenge for all those with cancer, and especially, this year, in honor of my colleague and friend Ted Kennedy and his fight against cancer.

When you've survived cancer, you know the responsibility that comes along with it. I'm one of those lucky survivors. I beat prostate cancer in 2003. We caught it early, and I had great medical care.

While I write to my own representative and senators quite often, I seldom have an opportunity to direct my thoughts to those outside of my district. I couldn't help but think that if Sen. Kerry could write to me asking for help fighting cancer it gave me a chance to do the same.

You can read the letter below.

I'm pretty sure my daughter Rory is traumatized for life after the last couple years. She's almost three, and waaaay too familiar with hospitals. It started in January of '07, when she got a staph infection; basically flesh-eating bacteria. We took her to the emergency room when she developed a fever and a pimple on her leg turned into a swollen area the size of my wife's palm. The emergency room sent us home with the wrong antibiotic, and said to contact her pediatrician within the next three days or so.

In the morning she wasn't any better than when we'd left the hospital, so I demanded a same-day appointment with the pediatrician. Apparently, if we'd waited for day two, she'd have lost the leg, and if we'd waited to day three, she probably wouldn't have made it.

Follow me across the jump if you don't mind reading a diary that doesn't touch on McCain's latest gaffe. It gets worse. Skull surgeries and broken vertebrae abound.

In elevators, it's uncanny how many times I get asked if I know what time it is.  Thing is, I haven't worn a watch much since grade school they stop on me so, no, I generally do not have the time.

But, I sound like I keep time.  click  click  click  click

Which is why I've always identified with the crockodile in Peter Pan:  He got a taste of that nasty old Captain, necessitating that the evil skipper becomes Captain Hook in replacing his mit.  

So the crockodile follows him around waiting for more captain morsels, and ended up eating a clock thrown to him in defense - from then on, the captain always hears him coming...

That's me - I sound like a clock.  I have a mechanical heart valve which makes a tiny click with every beat.  Somehow, that tiny sound magnifies in small spaces.  My heart squeezes and the leaflets are thrown open, relaxes and they click shut.

So I looked up the name of that dear fantasy croc, and it turns out he gets a name in subsequent stories - he's Mr. Grin.  I thought about using the name that way and thought I'd avoid gender-bending.  So it sounds cutesy, but it's apt.

Not too long ago my wife and I were on the brink of foreclosure.  I know what that experience is like and I know how my wife and I reacted.  For those of you who have never experienced this kind of thing I would like to share our emotional reaction to this traumatic event.

You think you're going to be sensible.  You think that you'll have a clear head and that you'll explore all the options.  No one pictures themselves acting like complete idiots, putting their heads in the sand until it's too late.  But unfortunately, it happens anyway.

This week I attended the funeral of an elderly woman who died in a tragic accident in her home, an accident that could have easily been prevented. It was a situation that I would never have imagined could happen. I want to share her story as a warning to those of us who are caregivers for elderly or disabled parents and loved ones.

I admit, I haven't written a diary in like 3 months because I am just so exhausted by this very long and stressful election season.

Follow me below for more....

I hate it when someone posts a middle finger aimed at a product they haven't even tried, simply because they judged it by its name and the initial press release.

I hate when folks on the left decry concern trolls telling democrats and feminists how they should behave, and then turn around and concern troll others, without actually doing all the legwork to support their position.

Meet my younger nephew, Danny.

He is three and a half years old.  He is an amazingly cute and funny kid.

Update:  Little had changed when I went to sleep last night, but I'll talk with people this morning & hopefully update with news, in the next couple of hours.

THANK YOU to everyone who has posted a good wish to Danny or our family, or didn't post and sent that wish.  I responded to most posts last night (tried to do them all, but sometimes I miss).  This morning, I'm running behind schedule, so I'll have some catching up to do on responding to posts.  But thank you.  

This Sunday, the New York Times ran a front-page article entitled "Given a Shovel, Digging Deeper Into Debt."  The article includes a graphic with colorful boxes.  Most of the boxes indicate debt, but one yellow-orange block, valued at $392, indicates the annual savings of an average American household.  

I have not read this article, nor have I taken advantage of the terrifying "interactive graphics" online, which allow you to compare your personal debt against the average American household.  I prefer ignorance of the economy, even if means refusing to read helpful write-ups, like this one, that might actually aid me in my flight from debt.  This ignorance, mind you, is not tinged with delusion; I do not believe that by knowing less I maintain an equilibrium between my paychecks, my loans, and my credit cards.  

Think of the number of people that you come into contact with in the average day. When you go about your morning business, when you're on the way to work, when you're at work, on your lunch break, when you're running errands, when you're going shopping.

Dozens and dozens of people every day.

Dozens and dozens of voters.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!

We can't go to Netroots Nation, there’s a mouse in our house!

And ...

It’s a Girl !
 
Don’t just sit there, jump to the cute photo !

I need to buy a transatlantic roundtrip ticket.  I've stopped hyperventilating about the ticket prices being astronomical.  I feel reassured that I can check out the possible seating on Seatguru.com.  What freaks me out is not knowing whether or not I'm getting the best deal possible given my date restrictions and preferences.  I need Kossack input!

  After Netroots Nation wrapped up on Sunday and all of the attendees scattered back to their homes (hope all of you had a safe trip), I stayed in Austin to visit with my old college buddy Joe. Ever since we both got out of school in the mid-eighties, our lives have taken different paths -- I came to the east coast, where I have remained ever since; he's bounced around various locations. I pursued a fairly linear, traditional career, and have done well; he's also done very well, but he's taken a much more unorthodox path to success. We've always kept in touch -- not particularly regularly, but with every occasional phone call and even more occasional visit, it always felt like we'd just spoken the day before. Joe makes me laugh, and he makes me think, and he's always a pleasure.

It's time, once again, for me to write about my time at the convention, taking in all the important parts of the convention but emphasizing myself.

It's a harrowing tale. Join me as I relive my time spent with my good libertarian friend Bob Barr, some LaRouchies, quite a few great candidates many, many many great bloggers, and quite a lot of refreshing beverages.

Hats were stolen, hearts were broken, and I even found a protege to indoctrinate.

And yes, the Squirmy Rooter and Rick Astley were involved.

Join me below the fold.

Sadie and I are back in the saddle today, recovering from our six-day stint in Austin with Chun Yang and her nine-year-old son, Tai -- and my first order of business is thanking Cali Scribe and Chun Yang again for their extraordinary generosity. Were it not for them, we would have watched longingly from the sidelines -- something I can't even fathom because we had such a terrific time!

By way of thanks to both, I offer up this photo diary of Sadie Lady's experiences and her impressions of Netroots Nation/Austin, the Kossacks she met, and the politicians she encountered.

More below: