Vote for Joe

While in Carrabelle, Florida (pop. 2,778), we got to know Randy Harrison and Joan Matey.   They’re married.   Joan is a local artist who specializes in various art mediums (paints, pencil drawing, miniature sculptures…)   Randy, 62,  is a personal trainer two days a week about an hour north of here at a YMCA in Tallahassee.   And he also volunteers with the Sheriff’s Department in Franklin County.   (Randy is  in such good shape, he still looks like he could still play linebacker somewhere.) Besides their “day jobs,” so to speak, both are extremely active in their community — going the extra-mile with most everything they do.   (The essence of some of our platform is to mobilize more people to become involved with local community, like it was in the “old days.”)   Joan, for instance, is helping organize a new Community Garden in  close by Lanark Village.   What’s more, she  puts on  the “Fishy Fashion Show” at the annual River Front Festival here.   This  features models wearing her “clothing art,” if you will.   Yellow raincoats adorned with colorful fishing lures, sea shells, and the like.   Burlap coats with  painted “fish tails,” sponge bow ties, crab  trap hats…   All things Joan has scavenged from the local beaches.   She’s big on recycling.   And she’s big on saving the environment in general.   The underlying theme for the Fishy Fashion Show is one of environmental consciousness, with characters like: The Estuary Fairy. Joan is also the curator for the Crooked River Lighthouse and Museum here.   She led us on a tour through a tremendously creative lighthouse museum she, in essence, designed from scratch…   Randy, on the other hand, often works behind the scenes helping Joan with staging at the festival.   He  also started a  Neighborhood Bicycle Patrol and has been part of the Community Volunteer Security Patrol.   (Part of our crime prevention platform calls for a lot more citizen involvement.)    Note:   It’s people like Joan and Randy who are the backbone of their communities, and  extrapolated out:  the backbone of the country.   Problem is, as we’ve traveled we’ve noticed a significant amount of this community proactivity is, well,  on the decline.

Tying up loose ends from the week…   At Koinonia Farm in Americus, Georgia, I talked with one of the farm supervisors, Jerry.   He said he’d just read in Acres Magazine   that GMOs were actually attacking microbes in the ground, destroying much of the fertility of the soil.   When you start tinkering with God’s natural design…   Koinonia also offers a certified course on: permaculture.   This is, in essence, setting up a tiered eco-system, with things like: berry bushes, an organic garden, free-range chickens, small ponds…   It is an interwoven habitat that is rich in diversity, food production and so on.   I have often said when we get to D.C. we’ll tear out a good deal of the front lawn at the White House and establish a permaculture.   As we will ask many Americans to consider doing the same with parts of their lawn…   On Rte 19 in southern Georgia, I talked with Tekisha O’quinn, 21.   She is a single mom with one young child at home.   Ms. O’quinn works at McDonald’s making $170 a week.   She was told she wasn’t eligible for Medicaid because she was “…making too much.”   I asked her how she was managing and she said she prayed her daughter didn’t get sick…   At a Quick Foods about 35 miles down the road on Rte. 19, Victor Hicks and his buddy Herman were sitting at the only table in the store.   When Victor heard I was running for president, he said he’d been pondering on why people on food stamps can purchase things like non-nutritional junk food like potato chips and soda pop.   I said that was a good point, then promptly told our eight-year-old Jonathan to return the Coca Cola and get an orange juice.   Jonathan frowned at “Mr. Victor”…   In Tallahassee, Florida, Layton Zeigler pulled up beside us and said he’d noticed one of our campaign signs:   Common Man, Common Sense.   He said he didn’t want to burst our bubble, but “…there is no common sense in D.C.,” he smiled.   I said we’d change that.   And so it goes…

While all eyes were riveted (sort of) on the Michelle Obama plane landing saga, the ‘almost First Lady’ Liz was in a much more precarious situation today in Tallahassee, Florida.   We travel in two camper / campaign vehicles.   And over the CB this morning, I heard:   “Honey, when I was just turning the wheel, there was a rather loud ‘clunk,’ (using her best NPR Click & Clack ‘clunk’ sound, if you will).   Do you think that means anything?”   I radioed back for her to stop, then I got in and, after turning the wheel once, determined it was, indeed, a ‘clunk’ sound.   And off to Fountain Automotive we drove, slowly.   The mechanic there, “Spot,” was able to spot (sorry) that the clunking sound was coming from the frame — which had cracked.   Not good, we all agreed, including Spot.   (It’s a 1978 vehicle.) Spot, who  couldn’t have been more helpful, didn’t have a welder that could do the job, but there was, wouldn’t you know, Tallahassee’s “Portable Welder” Robert Smith, who promptly stopped by and fixed the frame in an hour, including giving our Joseph a welding lesson.   While welding, Robert’s arm got burned by a spark.   I asked if he was OK? He said he’d had worse.   That is, his arm had been scarred with 2nd and 3rd degree burns when a fuel tank blew up during the First Gulf War.   The kids were rapt with his stories and afterward we thanked him, not only for fixing the vehicle, but for serving our country.   Absolutely fascinating guy.   Then it was on to the Gulf Coast this evening for the first anniversary of the Deep Water Horizon oil rig blow out…

We have launched on our next tour leg…   Our first stop was Macon, Georgia — not by design.   We got a flat.   At Yancey Tires, owner Bill Yancey (calloused greasy hands and a rumpled shirt that read: Bill) said it was, indeed, ‘time for a change’ (some simple common sense) in D.C.   His belief:   If you’re a lawyer, you’re not allowed to be in Congress.   Everything has gotten too complicated, and too convoluted, he added.   I underscored that by saying to him that the tax code book in D.C. is now a mind boggling (literally) 15,100 pages long.   Written, in part, by (You guessed it.): lawyers…   While at Yancey’s, I also checked the condition of our spare tire.   It’s mounted on the back.   When I took the cover off, I found a bird had built a nest in it over the winter — complete with five fledgling birds!   Our Sarah took the birds onto her bed in the back of the camper and became, well, ‘mama bird.’   For several hours, as they perched on her hand, her arm, her shoulder… she tried to get them to eat (cracker crumbs, bread crumbs…), but they weren’t biting, so to speak.   When we got to Tobesofkee State Park later in the afternoon, the family consensus was Sarah’s best bet was: worms.   She proceeded to find a couple small worms and was trying, again in vain, with these.   I mentioned that the mother bird ingests the worm then regurgitates it for their young.   Sarah rolled her eyes and said:   “I’m not doing that dad!”   Eventually we decided to take the birds out by the woods, and wouldn’t you know: they all flew off as natural as if they were, well, birds.   An addendum:   When I got back to the campaign vehicle, I turned on the radio.   The dial happened to be on a local Christian radio station out of Macon. And the first thing I heard was this pastor talking about God “…taking care of the birds of the air.”   (Honest.)   Note:   While at Tobesofkee, I talked with a Bibb County Sheriff (who resembled Buford Pusser, minus the big stick).   He said the county has a Sheriff’s Department support program called REACT, which consists of 100 area citizen volunteers.   These citizens go about town calling in infractions, help with crowd control at events, aid with water mishaps in the local lake…   Part of our crime prevention platform calls for a lot more citizen involvement if we really want our streets to be safer.

In the last couple weeks, I found myself working out in the free-weight room at the local YMCA with two professional football players.   One was Anthony Cannon, who was drafted in the 7th round out of Tulane University and played linebacker for three years for the Detroit Lions, until a bad shoulder injury temporarily ended his career.   The other player was another linebacker as well.   John McRae played for several years for the New Jersey Bears, a semi-pro team.   His career ended with a knee injury.   A degenerative injury that has become so bad he sometimes has to have gel inserted with a needle into his knee to keep the bones from rubbing.   While talking with Cannon, he said he’s rehabbed his shoulder this last year and has recently signed with the Toronto Argonauts in the Canadian Football League…   Now, I used to play football in high school and really loved the sport.   Yet how the violence level seems to be escalating of late, it does give one pause.   The NFL is, for instance, looking at the frequency of concussions and their long term impact on the brain.   Then there’s things like full-paralysis, happening at all levels of the sport (even grade school).   Maybe it’s time to take step, or two, back, and come up with a version of the sport that is considerably less violent.   Sure, it’s a rush to watch football as it is now.   But at what price?   Note:   Now on to a decidedly less violent sport.   Running.   My wife Liz ran the Atlanta Publix Half-Marathon this last Sunday.   She’s been training pretty intensely over the winter and finished in a respectable: 2 hours and 24 minutes.   And while the nation is transfixed on Michelle Obama’s arms, you should see Liz’s calf muscles!   (Liz would shoot me if she knew I just wrote that.)   Have I mentioned our gun control stance?