Before I go, I’d like to respond to the charges that, to quote one commenter, “Mr. Sturm now desperately hopes against hope that Bush loses, so Sturm won’t look the fool”
To butcher the old adage, tis far better to have Bush re-elected and me look the fool than to have Kerry win and me look brilliant.
Let’s be clear: I am not rooting for a Kerry win. My wallet won’t let me. The safety of my kids won’t let me. Respect for my father who served two tours in Asia during the Vietnam War won’t let me. The disgust I have for Michael Moore, Terry McAuliffe, Tom Daschle, CBS, class action plaintiff attorneys, Paul Begala and the Washington Post won’t let me. The hate – yes, hate – I have for the terrorists and those who would support them won’t let me. The moral values that I hold dear won’t let me. There are so many things that I would just hate about a Kerry presidency that being made to look (somewhat) paranoid and cynical were Bush to pull it off pales – repeat pales – in comparison.
Nor am I giving up. I will be voting for Bush on November 2nd. I’ll be watching tomorrow night’s debate yelling cues to Bush through the airwaves and trying to remember how to conjure up a curse to use against Kerry. More of my money is going to the Bush campaign (or whoever it is that keeps sending me my own personalized picture of Bush). I am continuing to do what little I can do to influence things through blogging, badgering my friends, and so on. I go to sleep every night trying to think of the silver bullet, the clove of garlic, the cross that would slay (figuratively, if the Secret Service is monitoring my communications) the beast that is the Kerry campaign – and wondering, if I were to think of one, would the Bush campaign actually use it (since they seem to have ignored all my other advice). I did not give up on Bush I in 92. I did not give up on Dole in 96. And, for what it’s worth, I don’t give up on the Cubs either.
Let me make this clear: nothing could make me happier on November 2nd than to have Bush win. Should he do so, I will finally exhale, I will drive all day honking my car horn, I will be bouncing on air. I’ll go play golf, knowing that no matter how bad I hit the ball, I’ll be in a terrific mood. My kids will hit me up for everything they’ve been wanting, knowing that I’ll be in too good a mood to say no. I’ll stay away from the office in order to give the pro-Kerry folks who work for me the opportunity to mourn without me there in their faces. I will be happy. Extremely happy. And knowing that I’ll be eating some crow, from all who care enough to remind me, will not matter in the least. For I will be happy. As we all should we be.