Yesterday was as gloriously sunny as it was last week when we went here but with a cooler autumnal edge. Walking up the hill to post a letter my boots were crunching thousands of acorns and their cups, dropped onto the grass from the line of oaks gracing the road’s boundary.
This time last year, I reflected, I was looking forward to my trip to Chicago for the C4P meet up and the chance to socialise with a cross section of those extraordinary ordinary Americans supporting Sarah Palin including some who, at times, commented upon my own irregular posts.
But now I was feeling rather flat after the week’s news, partly in myself but more so for those good people I met in Chicago as well as all the other C4P regulars and a whole host of friends I have made in the Twitterverse.
As an invited guest in the barbarian encampment I could only, of course, be an observer. My country has its own political travails which naturally have a greater impact on my life and the lives of those I love. But US politics have always been of great significance to me for our two countries are bound together by historical, cultural and linguistic ties that are too strong to be broken asunder by the odd family disagreement. So I have been a great watcher of the American scene and enjoyed the cut and thrust of your politics as a kind of spectator sport.
But Sarah Palin struck a different chord in me, as she did with all of you. This charismatic lady came from out of the blue generating a feeling of trust and hope for the future at a time when many could only see darkened clouds on the horizon. I rejoiced at the impact she made upon millions of ordinary people – but also found myself burning with anger at the highly orchestrated attempt to denigrate her with lies, calumnies and disdainful sneers – not so much from the left for that is their stock in trade but from the so called right, the Frums, the Parkers and the Sullivans. Like all of those I met in Chicago I wanted to do something even though I lived 3,000 miles away across the ocean. So I wrote this and subsequent blog posts and eventually got invited to post on C4P by Rebecca Mansour.
Which is why, of course, like so many of you I am feeling disappointed – and as I watch her enemies dance and gloat that sadness becomes compounded, just as it did on November 22nd, 1990. But please don’t be downhearted for long. Who knows what surprises the future might bring for Sarah Palin or her supporters. Only time will tell. As for her enemies they should savour the moment while they can for some time in the future fate will surely deliver their come uppance…
One thing, however, is certain. None of you will forget her and, hopefully, many of you will use that memory to continue a commitment to political activity – and one day an American President might well walk into the Oval Office for the first time, put a photo of Sarah Palin on his or her desk, give it a nod of thanks then begin to clean up America.
So, I have just poured myself a tankard of honest English ale to raise a toast to all my Palin supporting friends across the ocean…
Cheers…….Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Cheers…..thanks for the ride
Cheers……now, what’s next on the agenda?
Oh yes – shove a sharp stick up the anterior orifice of the odious Mark Mardell, the BBC’s man in Washington….
Now – where’s that other bottle……
