AMERICAN SEPPUKU

I’m in an airport in Europe waiting to fly back to a country that is no longer mine.  It’s 9am here, 3am in the East Coast, and Romney has conceded.  I’ll be all day getting back, so I thought I’d put down a few words before boarding time.

The science-fiction writer Robert Heinlein once wrote a book entitled Stranger In A Strange Land.  I’m that stranger now, America is that strange land. 

A majority of my fellow Americans performed seppuku yesterday, plunging the tonto ceremonial short blade into their country’s abdomen and disemboweled it.  America died yesterday, right before our eyes.  Right now I am incapable of understanding or explaining how this could possibly happen.

I went to bed last night sure I would be flying off to a joyous celebration at our Rendezvous, where we would plan together the rebirth of American freedom.  I woke up to my horror realizing that I’m headed to a funeral instead.

Yet that funeral for our country, as heartbreaking as that is, must not be our funeral.  The most important thing we must do at this moment is commit to survive – for ourselves, our families, for our loved ones. 

We are facing a national and historic tragedy of monstrous proportions.  But we must not let it be our personal tragedy. So rather than our Rendezvous in Washington this weekend be, as we hoped, Preparing for the Nobama Future, it will now be Surviving the Obama Future.

We have to face the reality of what has happened, and figure out how to personally triumph over it.  This must be our first priority.  Only then can we even begin to figure out how to rescue our country.  It’s like the airline flight attendant telling you, in an emergency, to place the oxygen mask over yourself first, and then over your child.

It’s at a time like this that I most clearly remember sitting on my grandfather’s knee as a young boy and him telling me the Wheeler Family Motto.  I suggest that it be the TTP Motto today:

There is a solution to every problem
The sun will shine after every storm
The soul’s highest purpose is to be of good cheer.

I’m on my way to the Rendezvous – and I hope you will be too.