Abortionist, George Tiller...

For The Record...

I've never tried to hide the fact that I've always despised George Tiller and the politicians who've shielded him from the law all these years.

That being said though. To gun him down like he was, was just wrong. The man who did this might believe he was a hero at the time. But he was a coward and is no better than the terrorists we're fighting right now. Extremists from either end of the spectrum is the last thing we needed.

For what it's worth. To the family of George Tiller, I'm sorry for your loss. It never should have gotten to this point.

You Call This Tolerance...

I received an e-mail last week from a reader who said I needed to quit being so controversial. He said he’s enjoyed reading this column ever since it’s inception but unless I stop being so one-sided in my writing, he’d have to stop reading it. Really?

Look, I’m not looking to lose any readers. And I don’t intentionally set out to offend anyone out there. Well, maybe I do get carried away from time to time. But there’s usually a reason for it.

Maybe I could be a little more tolerant. You know, like some of those tolerant liberals we keep hearing about. Like the one’s who couldn’t wait to get their mugs on TV to call the Tea Party-Tax Protesters a bunch of racist, ignorant, rednecks.

It’s funny. The voters in California, you know, the most liberal, progressive, state in the country just voted against another round of massive tax increases. I don’t remember hearing anybody in the media calling them names. I guess when a bunch of liberals oppose tax increases, it’s okay.

Maybe I could model my column after the tolerant way Miss California was treated for having the nerve to give an honest answer to a question about whether she supported gay-marriage or not. Yeah, that tolerant, liberal judge couldn’t wait to get to his blog to announce to the world she was an ignorant bitch. The main stream media went crazy. Late-night talk show hosts and comedians had a hay day with her. Maybe I could be more like them. I guess freedom of speech is only supposed to apply to a certain way of thinking.

I was reading one of our local blogs the other day about the proposed, state-wide smoking ban. One of the left-wing loon, bloggers said the only people who participated in the dirty, filthy, habit of smoking were inbred, ignorant, hillbillies. It wasn’t long before there was a bunch of them yucking it up. Yeah, that was cute.

If a person has the nerve to say they oppose abortion, they’re labeled a religious-zealot and a racist. If you’re a Christian and make the mistake of publicly admitting it, you’re immediately mocked, ridiculed, and called every name in the book. All in the name of tolerance, you know. If you don’t follow the cult of global warming, you’re just stupid and believe the earth is still flat. If you don’t buy into the theory that we all evolved from some damned ape somewhere, well, you’re just an idiot, a religious-zealot, and need to be watched.

I believe with every fiber in my body that Obama’s policies will turn this nation into a socialist country. In my opinion, there’s no way you can call it anything else. I’ve written several times about the many things I disagree with him on. The color of the man’s skin has nothing to do with it. But still, I’m called a racist. Whatever.

I’ve been called all kinds of names because I think the whole GITMO argument is ridiculous. I mean, other than making the left feel good. Why move them? Nobody’s been able to tell me what the difference would be if we moved them into American prisons. They’ll still be locked up. Some of them indefinitely. What will be gained if we move them into the general population of an American prison? Nothing positive, that’s for sure. But still, the name calling continues.

I really thought that once the left had the president and both houses of Congress they wanted, they’d calm down somewhat. If anything, they’ve become more emboldened and have gotten much worse.

Here’s the way I see it. Whether you and I agree on a certain topic or not really isn’t important. What‘s important, is the fact that we all still have the right to our own opinions. And thanks to the brave men and women who’ve fought and died for this country, we still have the right to express them. And I for one, plan to continue exercising that right.

Think I’m wrong? Check out the blog this week and tell me so at: www.rm235.blogspot.com or you can e-mail me at: kevinmcginty@sbcglobal.net

Thank You Veterans...

Let us never forget...

You know, there are days I just want to scream. There are days others want to scream too. We do this because there's so many things wrong with the world today. It's just that a lot of us of see things differently.

Whether we agree or not isn't really the point, is it? What matters is the fact that we have the right to voice our opinions. It's called freedom. And it sure as hell hasn't been free.

I'd like to ask everyone reading this to join me in a simple moment of silence as we honor the Veterans and their families who've given so much to keep us free. Just take a couple minutes and think about it. We owe them a debt that can never be repaid. It's the least we can do.

To all Veterans and their families everywhere. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all you've given us...

YES WE CAN...

You can say what you want about Obama. But you can’t say he isn’t doing exactly what he told us he’d do. His campaign was all about “Hope and Change,” right? Well, he’s changed things alright.

One of the first things he did was to make good on his campaign promise to close that dreadful place called GITMO. Remember that? Remember how the left-wing loons went into a frenzy over that one?

Problem is though, like most liberal ideas, he did it because it sounded good. He did it because it made his base feel good. He did it because it was the politically popular thing to do. And that was about it. There was no plan in place on what to do with the terrorists who now call this place home. All he knows is that he needs $85 million dollars. He’ll figure the rest out later. Whatever.

Then came the first ever by an American President, “Blame America” tour where he trotted off around the globe sucking up to and bowing down to some of the world’s most despicable dictators. Remember that one? Kind of makes you proud, doesn’t it.

Then he took over some of the biggest banks, financial institutions, and insurance companies in the country, telling them what they’d do and how they’d do it. He followed that up by taking over the U.S. auto industry. And just to make sure there was no doubt in anyone’s mind about who was in charge, he fired the CEO of General Motors, again, the first ever by an American President.

Still not satisfied, Obama set his sights on Chrysler. He pushed them into a deal with Italian car company, Fiat. Remember the Yugo that Fiat tried to dump on us back in the 80’s?

Now he’s decided that in order to save the world from global-warming we need to make cars that get at least 35 miles per gallon. Sounds good, right? I suppose there are a few different ways for car companies to meet that goal. They can keep the same size cars we’re used to and put in a much smaller engine in it making it woefully underpowered and dangerous or they can develop new engines that use less fuel and can produce the same amount of power we’re used to. But once they get all that accomplished, the price will be so high on a new vehicle that no one will be able to afford to buy one anyway.

More than likely, since Fiat will be taking over Chrysler, they’ll try to re-introduce another crappy little, underpowered car like the Yugo.

But hey, it’ll be good for the economy, right. I mean, Obama has promised to create more jobs and more than anything that’s what we need. Just think how busy the cemeteries, funeral homes, and the companies that build things like caskets and vaults will be. It’ll be good for trucking companies who deliver them too. There will be a big spike in the floral industry as well as the hotel/motel business as people travel from place to place as they’re attending funerals of family members and friends who’ve been killed in these crappy little death traps they’ll soon unleash on us. Greeting Card companies will have to put on extra employees just meet the demand for sympathy cards that will surely follow.

Yeah, it’s a good thing alright. And it was all brought to you by a man named Obama and his left-wing, environmental, wack-job, friends.

Oh yeah, he talked constantly about “Hope.” My hope is that in 2012 there will be enough people who have had enough of his brand of “Change” and kick him to the curb. YES WE CAN!

Stop on by the blog if you want to talk about it: www.rm235.blogspot.com or you can e-mail me at: kevinmcginty@sbcglobal.net

You Wanna Talk About Torture...

I think some of you people need to get a grip. It amazes me to watch the left-wingers agonize over the dreadful practice of what has now become known as “water-boarding.”
Do you even know what water-boarding is? Do you even understand what the word torture really means?
It seems crazy to me that you’ve turned your backs on Bush for doing exactly what he said he’d do following the attacks on New York City back in 2001. Do you even remember that day? Do you remember how scared you were? Do you remember wondering if we’d be hit again? I sure as hell do.
Maybe you just don’t get it. Maybe it’s because they don’t talk about it much on American Idol or Saturday Night Live. You sure don’t hear it talked about on MSNBC.
But here’s the deal, terrorism has become the scourge of the planet. Terrorists have been hijacking ships and aircraft, attacking skyscrapers, and mass transit systems anywhere and everywhere they can find a weakness. They’re responsible for mass murders in every part of the world. And most of it is done in the name of some twisted version of Islam.
Terrorists love recruiting kids, some of them as young as 10-years-old to carry out suicide missions against unsuspecting civilian populations. They purposely target society's weakest people, including the elderly, women, and children, in their effort to instill fear into governments and populations as a way to further their political and religious agendas.
In Iraq, terrorists are using vulnerable or otherwise unstable women as suicide bombers. On two different occasions they used mentally retarded women as unwitting suicide bombers. In both cases they strapped remote controlled explosive devices onto the women and set them off once the women had walked into crowded plazas, all from a safe distance. You know, they sure wouldn’t want to get hurt themselves.
How about the way the Taliban works in Afghanistan? Did you see the recent video of the man and woman accused of adultery? A group of these terrorists simply gathered them up and shot them to death on the spot. How about the young girl who was accused of simply looking at a man? Did you see what they did to her? They beat her half to death with whips and left her bleeding in the street where they found her.
You want to talk about torture, fine. But let’s be honest about it though. Let’s talk about the way terrorists like to decapitate their prisoners. But we’re not supposed to talk about that, are we. We’re not supposed to bring up all the videos they’ve made of themselves as they have a man tied up on his knees pleading for his life as they cut his head off, all the while they’re praying to Allah. Nah, we’re not supposed to bring that up.
We’re supposed to believe the left when they compare Bush and Cheney to Hitler and Joseph Stalin. Let’s see, Hitler and Stalin are personally responsible for the deaths of literally millions upon millions of people in the death camps they set up.
Bush and Cheney had doctors on hand during these interrogations to make sure these scum bags weren’t actually hurt during the process. Yeah, what a comparison.
You people can believe what you want, I really don’t care. But if you think for a minute that outing the CIA agents for what they did and prosecuting Bush and Cheney for war crimes is going to make look better in the eyes of a terrorist, and that they’ll suddenly like us better, then you’re out of your minds.
You can bag on him all you want. He brought a lot of it onto himself by destroying our economy in the first place. But love him or hate him, President Bush did what he was supposed to do. He kept all our sorry, ungrateful, asses safe from another terrorist attack. And if that meant he had to authorize the use of dunking some scum bag, terrorist under water a few times, tough.
War is hell and bad things happen. Want to talk about it? Head on over to the blog this week, I’m sure we’ll be discussing it further: www.rm235.blogspot.com or like always, you can e-mail me at www.kevinmcginty@sbcglobal.net

Hitschmann: A Kansas Ghost Town - Part Four

About a quarter mile east of Hitschmann is an old, abandoned farm house. It’s where Vernon and Jo Ann Krier lived raised their four kids, Jay, Mike, and Darrell. They also had a daughter, but once again I can’t remember her name. You couldn’t tell it by looking at the place today, but it was once full of life. I remember trying to ride the calves and sneaking into the chicken house to scare the crap out of the chickens. We thought it was fun, but Jay’s dad didn’t exactly see it that way and put a halt to it. They had a huge barn out back we used to play in and I remember when they’d put up hay. Starting at the top we used to dig out the bales and built this huge network of secret tunnels complete with secret rooms, secret passwords, and unless you knew what they were there was no way you were getting in. But once again, Jay’s dad just had to get involved. When he saw how many of the bales we had destroyed in the process of building our secret hideout he had a fit. He didn’t much care about the adventures we were having or the fact that in order to enter our hideout he needed the secret password. Now Vernon wasn’t exactly the kind of guy to beat around the bush. He told us that if we didn’t get out of there right now he was going to beat both of us till we couldn’t walk. He meant it and we knew it. So much for that bright idea. I remember Jay’s mom sending us out to pick mulberries so she could make a pie with them. Now I don’t remember if we ever actually got back with enough berries to make a pie with because we usually ate them about as fast as we picked them. Looking back, I think his mom was probably doing what she could to keep us out of trouble with Jay’s dad.
I backed out of the driveway and headed back the way I came. I still wanted to see the old house we lived in. It was about five miles north of town, nothing special, just a small, two bedroom house out in the middle of nowhere. We called it the lease house because my dad worked as a pumper in the oilfields and the old house sat on one of the oil leases he took care of. I wish I’d taken this trip earlier. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was to find out it had been torn down years ago. But I did pull into the driveway and walked around for a while. I stood in the spot where the bedroom I shared with my three brothers used to be. Yeah, those were good times. I was the oldest and my brothers pretty much had to do whatever I told them because back then I could easily beat them up and they knew it. The old garage that caught on fire was gone. The spot where my dad used to put in his garden is overgrown with weeds and the old building he used to put up the potatoes he grew is long gone too. I stood in the spot where our living room had once been. As soon as I got home from school I’d sit on the couch and watch “Major Asrto,” it was an afternoon children’s show. Most of you reading this today have probably never heard of him. But back in the day, Major Astro was about the coolest friend a kid could have. I hated it when the news came on. We were in this living room as Walter Cronkite told us the news of the day. I remember my dad getting quiet and telling us kids to either shut up or go outside when was talking. I remember seeing my mom cry one day after he had been on the air for what seemed like all day. I didn’t find out until years later that Walter Cronkite was keeping us informed as the “Cuban Missile Crisis” unfolded and that my mom had been crying because she had been watching the coverage of President Kennedy’s funeral. Like most Americans in those days they were scared and worried about the future of the country. I had no idea.
I picked up a copy of a book written by Daniel Fitzgerald titled “Faded Dreams” the other day. It was the same book the guy from the elevator in Hitschmann showed me. It’s full of stories about Kansas ghost towns and on pages 161-162 is his story about Hitschmann. He did a good job of gathering the facts about the town and talking about it’s history. But now, if I can borrow a phrase from Paul Harvey, you know the rest of the story.
Well guys, that’s about it. If there’s anyone out there with a similar story and would be interested in sharing it, I’d love to talk to you. Oh, one more thing, Misty, it’s 6:00 and almost time to rock! You ready?
You can contact Kevin McGinty by e-mail at: kevinmcginty@sbcglobal.net or you can see more pictures of this trip and join in on the conversation by visiting his online blog at: www.rm235.blogspot.com

Hitschmann: A Kansas Ghost Town - Part Three

Before we get started today, I’d like to take a couple minutes to respond to the letter published in the Metro last week written by Richard L Sallman. Richard you asked me if our sovereignty extends out 60 miles into International Waters. Okay, you got me there. Truth is, I don‘t know. Maybe I need to be a little more careful the next time I start running my mouth. Now about the coal. Richard, it’s not that I’m blasé about coal as a source of energy. It’s more like I understand that as a Nation, we depend on it just as we depend on a reliable, uninterrupted supply of natural gas and oil just to survive. And the truth is, no one has really come up with a workable replacement. You asked me to check a out cover story in Time Magazine about the 40 pounds of mercury coming from each coal-fired power plant. Sorry Richard, I’d read it but I doubt it would change my mind. I’ve watched Time Magazine preach the gloom and doom, end of the world stuff for the last 40 years and I‘d be more than happy to provide a few examples of what I mean by that, but that‘s another story for another time. Richard, I doubt you and I will ever agree on such matters but I do thank you for taking the time to respond, it was a good letter.
Okay, now where were we? Oh yeah, the old school in Hitschmann. After finally getting the pictures inside the school I was after I wandered around outside for a while. I walked around the old playground and stood in the middle of what used to be the soft-ball diamond. Other than the old back-stop there’s not much left to suggest it was ever anything other than a hay field. Oh there are so many memories to talk about but we need to get going.
I walked across town and found myself standing in front of what used to be Artie Beck’s house. You wouldn’t know it by looking at the place today, but we used to have some great adventures at that old house. Artie lived there with his mom and dad, Art and Lucielle, two brothers Freddie and Jerry, and a sister, Becky or was it Bonnie? I don’t remember, you gotta understand, we were like 5 or 6-years old at the time and didn’t exactly hang with the girls. They just didn’t like to do the things we did. Things like pouring water into holes we’d find in the ground to see what we could flush out. We always had a jar ready to catch whatever it was. I’m not sure but I think we probably had the biggest spider collection in town and were pretty proud them too. We used to pin playing cards to the spokes of our bicycles wheels for the sound effects. I remember draping towels around our necks and becoming one of the super-heroes of the time. Artie was always Bat-Man and I liked Super-Man. Both were cool though.
I walked around the back yard for a while and noticed the old clothes line posts were still standing. Brush, vines, and trees have all but covered them up over the years but that old clothes line provided us with so many good times. I remember swinging on the lines. The posts served as base for our hide and seek games. We used to tie our imaginary horses to them as we played cowboys and Indians. But my favorite memory was spending the night in the tents we used to make using clothes pins and old Army blankets. We’d fix peanut butter sandwiches and a jug of Kool-Aid or whatever other survival foods we could find. We always had a good supply of army men, toy trucks, and comic books or whatever else we could think of and off into the night we’d go. You know, now that I think of it, I don’t think we ever actually made it through a single night. You see, night time was when the monsters came out and luckily we knew it.
Friday’s were always my favorite day at Artie‘s house. It was the day his dad gave them their allowance. They each got a dollar and every once in a while I‘d get one too. Now a dollar might not impress a kid today, but in 1964, for a little while we felt pretty rich. We’d head straight to Frank and Bertha’s place. I remember the old pop machine in the back room. It was a little different than the one’s we have today. It was an old chest type. You opened the top and the pop sat in cooled water. Anybody remember those? There was a big table in the back where people played cards or dominoes or whatever. They cussed and discussed everything under the sun. There was an old wood burning stove they used in the winter. In the basement there was an old pool table where the men would gather while they drank their beer. Yeah, it was a cool place. Shopping was even different in those days. You told them what you wanted and they’d hand it to you. By the time we left the store our dollars were pretty much all gone. But we each had a pop, sunflower seeds, maybe a candy bar or whatever else we could think of. Yeah, life was good back then.
You can join in on the conversation by visiting my blog online at www.rm235.blogspot.com

Hitschmann: A Kansas Ghost Town- Part Two

It’s funny, the guy from the elevator wasn’t from Hitschmann and once I told him I used to go to school there, he started asking me what I knew about the place. I named off a few people. One of them was a kid named Jay Krier. He told me Jay lived just north of town and offered up directions to his house. I declined the offer though. I’ve always been a little worried that Jay might still be mad at me for tearing up his dad’s alfalfa field. I’ll get to that later though, like always, I’m getting ahead of myself.
I probably should have started off today by saying that if you missed last week’s column, I’m telling a story about a Kansas ghost town named Hitschman and some of the people who lived there. This week is the second part of what will probably end up being a four part story about the place.
Alright then, where was I? Oh yeah, after the guy from the elevator and I talked for a while I told him I’d noticed the side door of the school was open and was wondering if he thought anyone would freak out if I went inside to get a few pictures. He told me to go ahead, just be careful. There had been a bunch of thugs living in it and were tearing the hell out of the place a few years back until the cops finally busted up their meth lab. He said there used to be signs warning about the chemicals but they’d been gone for a long time too.
I was thinking about that story as I walked back to the school and thinking about how sad it was but I wasn’t all that surprised either, not in today’s world anyway. Oh well, what do you do?
Just inside the front doors of the school is a big stairway that leads up to the classrooms. I stood there for a couple minutes thinking back to the last time I came down those stairs, I had no idea it would be 43 years before I’d be back.
As I climbed the stairs I noticed the water fountain and remember thinking it used to be a lot taller. Then I stepped into my old classroom. I stood in the same spot my desk used to be. I could almost hear Mrs. Seimpson taking roll call, leading us in the Pledge of Allegiance, and following that up by leading us as we recited the “Lord’s Prayer.” Now that’s something you’re not likely to hear nowadays. I noticed the closets we used to hang our coats in and thought to myself how upset she’d be if she saw how messed up they were today.
As I stood there I wondered what ever became of my old classmates. I went to school there for three years and each year there were five of us in our class. Besides myself there was Jay Krier, Artie Beck, Jerry Ney, and a girl but I can’t remember her name.
I walked out of my classroom out into the hallway. I went into the boy’s bathroom and yes, I know this is going to be gross but the urinal cracked me up. It used to be taller than I was. I went into the girl’s bathroom and realized this was the first time I’d ever been in there. I don’t know what the penalty for going into the girl’s bathroom would have been but I’m sure it would have severe in those days. I went into the “big kids” room. About the only thing I can remember about this room is it was where they kept the old Xerox machine. I always loved it when I got to help make copies of whatever we were copying. How many of you remember those old machines? Do you remember the smell of the ink? I just loved that.
I went down that stairway to the basement and the first thing I noticed was the stage. That old stage provided me with one of the most embarrassing moments of my young life. It was during one of our Christmas programs. We were singing that old Christmas Carroll that went “down through the chimney with ol’ St. Nick. You know the one. When we got to the part that went “up on the house top, “click, click, click.” Well, my job was to step forward and hit two sticks together with the beat. It was going so well too. I don’t know, maybe I got a little carried away but when I smacked my sticks together for the third and final time one of them broke in two. That by itself wouldn’t have so bad I guess. But I don’t know why that one piece just had to fly out into the crowd and hit a lady sitting in the front row on the leg. All I knew was that I wanted to die. But, the show must go on. And go on we did. At the other end of the basement was the kitchen and I could almost smell the home made dinner rolls they used to make.
Guys, I’m sorry but I’m going to have wrap it up. Next week we’re going to go over to Artie Beck’s house, then walk over to Frank and Bertha’s store for a pop. Remember, if you’re interested, you can join in on the conversation by going to my blog at www.rm235.blogspot.com. I’ve already heard from a man named Al who lived in Odin and is very familiar with the places I’m talking about. It doesn’t get any better than that. Hope all is well with you and yours.

Hitschmann: A Kansas Ghost Town- Part One

I’ve got a story to tell you. But it’s kind long and in order to do it right I’m going to have to spread it out over the next three or four weeks, hope you hang with me. It’s a story about a town that sits about 25 or 30 miles north-east of Great Bend called Hitschmann. It’s a story about a two room school house I went to Kindergarten through the second grade in. It’s about some of my old classmates, I don’t know, guys like Artie Beck and Jay Krier come to mind. I’ll probably talk about their parents too, especially Jay’s dad, Vernon. I’m going to tell you about the old general store/post office/pool hall and the couple that owned the place. I’m going to talk about my dad and his friends, my mom always referred to them as his worthless drinking buddies. Yeah, looking back, she was probably right too. But I couldn’t talk about any of that without talking about growing up in the oil fields. We’re going to talk about some of the good times as well as the bad.
So how about it? Why don’t you grab yourself something to drink and kick off your shoes for a while. This ought to be a good trip and we might as well get started.
It all started last Wednesday when I was talking to Denise Hall (the boss) on the phone from Great Bend and told her about my plans to get a few pictures of an old school I used to go to that wasn‘t very far away. I thought it would make a good story. Yeah, I got the pictures I wanted alright. I got lots of pictures that day. So I’m going to do something that so far, I’ve been reluctant to do. I’m going to invite you to visit my blog at www.rm235.blogspot.com I post my column on it every week. And as we go through this story, I’ll be posting more pictures of the things and places I’m talking about. If you’re interested, come on in and have a look around. And if you’re so inclined, feel free to post a comment or two. Just do me a favor though, keep it clean. I know I can’t control what people say. But I do control what gets posted. I’d love to hear from you.
I left Great Bend later that morning and headed north through Hoisington then east on hi way 4 through Redwing toward Claflin. About three miles west of Claflin there’s a county road that takes you north through Odin and about another three or four miles further up the road there it was, the Hitschmann intersection. I hadn’t been on this road in over 40 years.
I made that right hand turn just like I’d watched my dad do so long ago. And as soon as I’d made the turn I could see Hitschmann’s grain elevator. It’s funny too. The minute I saw it, and it’s kind of hard to explain, but everything just felt right. It felt kind of like I’d never left. Wow.
Then there it was. Coming into town from the west the first thing I noticed was Frank and Bertha’s old house. And right next door was where Art and Lucielle Beck used to live. I turned into town on the second and last street and there it was. My old school. You know, I really hadn’t expected this to be an emotional trip and it’s not like I sat around crying. It was more like all the sudden I remembered everything. The old school’s been abandoned for the last 35 years and it showed. It was weird but as I got out of the truck, I realized I’d parked in the same spot my mom used when she picked me up after school. Pretty cool. I looked across the street and saw Frank and Bertha’s old store. It’s probably sat empty almost as long as the school has. I was walking around taking a few pictures when I noticed it. The side door was open. Uh, oh, decision time. Man I really wanted to get in there but it didn’t feel right. It’s not that I worried about being arrested for trespassing. I was more worried about getting shot. I walked back out to the street and I realized there wasn’t another living soul anywhere around. The entire town was deserted.
Well almost, because harvest was in full swing there was a man working at the elevator. I went inside his office and told him who I was and that I was from Topeka. I could tell right away he wasn’t impressed. That’s when I told him I’d gone to school there in the early 60’s and really wanted to get a few pictures of the place. We had a good talk and found out we knew a lot of the same people. He showed me a book written by a guy named Daniel Fitzgearld. It was a book about Kansas ghost towns and Hitschmann was in it. Bam!
Yeah, that’s what this story’s about. It’s about more than a Kansas ghost town. It’s a story about the ghosts themselves. Hope you come along for the ride.
Remember, you can visit Kevin McGinty’s blog at: www.rm235.blogspot.com

Kansas Governor, Mark Parkinson

Mark Parkinson: Do We Trust Him or Not...

Ding-dong, the wicked witch, the wicked witch, the wicked witch. Ding-dong, the wicked witch is… Oh, never mind, you know how the rest of it goes.

Yes, I’m talking about Kathleen Sebelius. And yes, I know that was a cheap shot. Sorry.

Quick question though: According to almost every media outlet to ever report on her, what was her one defining strength? You know, the one they all reported on? Give up? Okay. It was her ability to reach across party lines to find workable solutions to issues that affected all Kansan’s. Yeah right.

Maybe it‘s just me being cynical and all, but what really important issues did she ever reach across party lines to address? It certainly didn’t happen any time the legislature tried to strengthen and close loopholes in Kansas’ late term abortion laws. She vetoed these bills every time one crossed her desk. I didn’t matter to her that Kansas has become the late-term abortion capital of the world. And it didn’t matter how much support the bills had from the citizens of Kansas or how much support there was in the legislature. In the end, it was either her personal beliefs or her political future that dictated which bills survived and which one‘s fell victim to her veto pen.

How about the Holcomb power plant? Did you see her reaching across party lines to work out any kind of compromise to this issue. No, it never happened. It didn’t make any difference to her how much support there was in the state or the legislature. It didn’t make any difference to her how much revenue the project would produce for the state in this time of economic chaos. It didn’t matter how many jobs this project would bring to an area of the state that has been losing jobs and people for years now. It didn’t even matter to her that her own K.D.H.E. approved the permits to allow the project to proceed. Again, it was either her personal beliefs or her political plans that got in the way of reaching a compromise and keeping the state moving forward.

Hopefully, that kind of partisan crap is now behind us and we can get on with our lives again. Five days into his new job, our new governor, Mark Parkinson and Sunflower CEO Earl Watkins worked out a compromise solution that so far, seems to make everybody happy.

Well, everybody but the enviromental groups like the Sierra Club and a few other like-minded groups. Go figure, personally I believe the only thing that’s ever going to make some of these people happy is if we all end up eating berries and living in cave somewhere.

I know, it’s still early in Parkinson’s administration and he certainly deserves the benefit of a doubt. But let’s not get all googlie-eyed over the guy just yet.

Remember, first and foremost, he’s a politician. There was a time he headed up the Kansas Republican Party. Remember that? Remember how he used to hammer Democrats and how he especially hammered Sebelius back in the day? Remember how he turned his back on his own party to join her to become Lt. Governor in the first place? Remember how many bridges he burned in the process? I do.

Maybe he’s on the up and up here and once again, I’m way off base. Nothing new there. But have you considered the possibility that this was Parkinson and Sebelius’ plan all along? There was no way Sebelius was going to get an Obama, Cabinet position if she allowed the Holcomb project to move forward. So it is possible they agreed that once she was gone, Mark Parkinson would come riding in on his white horse and save the day. Hey, it's a pretty good strategy. I wonder if the Republicans are smart enough to pay attention.

What do they get in return? The Democrats will score huge political points, plain and simple. They’ve known all along that once Sebelius leaves us for Washington, the Kansas Democratic Party would be in trouble. And what better way than to solve one of the biggest issues we face durning his first week in office?

I know, I’m not supposed to think that way. I'm sure it's going to land me on some governmental watch list somewhere for thinking the wrong way. Anyway, we're all just supposed to take things at face value and not ask questions. But here’s the deal. I’ve seen way too many politicians saying one thing and doing another. I’ve seen way too many of them who only seem interested in promoting their own political future or that of their political party, whether it’s in the best interests of the people they’re supposed to be looking out for or not.

In the mean time, Governor, you've hit the ground running and for that, I am impressed. Not that matters anyway, but you gotta remember, you’ve made an awful lot of enemies over the last couple of years. Be careful out there.

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