The barkeep here at the HFR Saloon can't keep up with the drink orders this week.  Half of them are drinks to celebrate the never-ending pratfalls of the Zero Circus.  The other half are for glasses of beer to cry in, since the Circus' biggest pratfalls will be the ruination of America's economy and national security. Every celebrant, it seems, wants a different cocktail.  One fellow has a Sidecar.  "Do a lot of business in Albuquerque," he says.  "Every business guy in town knows what a corrupt crook their governor Bill Richardson is - he's the Blagojevich of New Mexico.  You telling me Zero's people didn't know this, that the FBI has a major investigation on him?  I'm telling you, Zero is not ready for prime time.  By the way, always make a sidecar with bourbon, not brandy." Nearby was someone with a Manhattan.  "I'm from Chicago and we know Blago.  He's much smarter than Richardson who's dumb as a stump.  Look how Blago snookered that arrogant little worm who pretends he runs the Senate.  Blago knew if he nominated a white guy it would be blocked, so he picked a black guy whose only qualification was that he was black, old Tombstone Burris.  Harry Reid had to cave.  Sure proves we're post-racial after November 4, huh?"  He took a sip.  "Be sure and have your Manhattans with rye, not Canadian, whiskey."    At the end of the bar was a grandfatherly type who was into his second Long Island Ice Tea and feeling no pain.  "Doncha just love Slick Willie's chief of staff running the CIA?  If that isn't a hoot, what is?  Until we get nailed by another 9/11, that is.  That Feinstein broad got her panties in a twist because Zero didn't pick her boy Kappes."

The HFR has recovered from its hangover bidding the annus horribilus of 2008 vale ad aeternam, goodbye forever, and welcomes you to what's coming for this brand new year of 2009! Or rather what might be coming - for as we learned near the start of last year in The 2008 Carpe Diem Filter,  history is stochastic, a series of uniquely unrepeatable events.  There is no such thing as the future, and you can't make predictions about something that doesn't exist. You certainly can about nature (like what time the sun will rise tomorrow), but not about what people will do, because they haven't decided yet - and in particular, the extent to which they decide to treat problems as opportunities (the carpe diem filter). Nonetheless, there are some things that look exceedingly likely.  So here goes. Don't be surprised if 2009 is as weird a year as 2008.  A president who worships at a God Damn America church is worshipped as the savior of America - but for how long?  The media will focus on his every word and deed, and will shout hosannas of positive news regarding everything he touches.  But sooner or later it will dawn on folks that he is no more competent a president than he is a golfer - or bowler.

The best news this week is that with this issue of the HFR, we get to raise a tin cup of moonshine and say adios to 2008.  Come what may in 2009, it is such an incredible relief to get this sucker over with. It is, of course, not good news that during Christmas, millions of Americans have been stranded in airports and train stations due to massive winter storms all across the country.  Yet being stranded gives one time to think - and hopefully one thought that will occur to them is that global warming is laughably ridiculous... ... By the way, out of every 100,000 molecules of air, how many do you suppose are molecules of CO2, the evil gas environuts say causes global warming?  39.  How many are man-made molecules of CO2?  1.  That's one-onehundrendthousandth.  Man-made greenhouse gas emissions are irrelevant to the world's weather... ... So now Blago is going to subpoena Zero's chief of staff.  Watching this scandal unfold is almost as much fun as seeing Princess Caroline Kennedy's assumed royal prerogative of being anointed US Senator from New York crashing and burning... ...But now let's focus on what is truly good and uplifting news this week.  For the first time ever, Christmas was celebrated as an official holiday in Iraq.  And let's close this last HFR of 2008 with this heartwarming thought.  Christmas yesterday was celebrated by more people in more places on all seven continents (even scientists in Antarctica) - by far - than any other celebration of any kind, religious or otherwise, in the world.

There hasn't been an HFR since November 4 since it's too depressing to raise a glass that's completely dry and empty.  Lately, however, so much fun stuff has been filling the HFR full liter stein that it's like the Munich Oktoberfest in December. Let's start with the biggest silver lining of November 4:  we didn't end up with President Pain-in-the-ass McCain.  Once again, he reminded us this week of what an insufferable jerk he is.  The only reason he got the nomination is because the Stupid Party allows Democrats to vote in its primaries.  It's such a relief we never have to pay any attention to him ever again.  Jindal-Palin 2012! Next we move to Blagogate, which is serving to bring into clear focus that corruption is the Democrat Party's middle name - and that for the next four years we'll have a Chicago White House, the operations of which will be run by Blago buddy Rahm Emmanuel... ... Now on to the substantial benefits of the US/global recession. ... We'll close this edition of the HFR by raising a glass of sacramental wine to a great American patriot and founder of the modern conservative political movement, Paul Weyrich.

Obviously - it's a gift subscription to To The Point!  It certainly has the best value-to-cost ratio of any alternative.  And you don't have to go to a store, search aimlessly for something cool, gift-wrap it, or undergo any other hassle.  Just a minute to fill out the info form at TTP Gift Subscriptions and you're done. You can of course go the whole nine yards and pop for a full year at $95.  That would have to be for a really good friend!  Or you could opt for the most economical route, a single month for $9.99.  There's a really attractive third choice, that we've just made available in time for Christmas:  three months for $24.99. You know the value of To The Point  for yourself.  Why not provide it to a friend for Christmas - enabling him or her to take refuge in the Oasis for Rational Conservatives as the craziness of 2009 unfolds? There's no better Christmas present you could give a friend than To The Point.  Clicking on TTP Gift Subscriptions is all it takes.  It's a wonderful way to wish someone Merry Christmas!

One of my fond childhood memories is that whenever we had guests over for dinner, my father would always offer his favorite toast, the famous Spanish one:  Salud, amor, y pesetas - y el tiempo para gozarlas.  (May you have) Health, love, and wealth - and the time in which to enjoy them. It is appropriate that the most important of this triumvirate comes first - health.  When we are young, it is easy to take natural good health and vitality for granted - and it becomes progressively less easy as we get old.  Which it is why it is wise to start preserving one's health when young (just as it is wise then to start saving money). I'm 65 now and as you know, 12 days ago (12/05) underwent serious abdominal surgery.  My doctors are amazed at how rapidly I am recuperating.  One reason for this is that I have taken nutritional supplements in "life extension" amounts for over 30 years.  Another is that I am taking specific nutritional formulas to promote healing and recovery. Almost exclusively, they are formulas designed by famed life extension scientists Durk Pearson and Sandy Shaw - dear friends for 40 years - and produced by our mutual friend Will Block's company Life Enhancement. I think that such nutrition is the best Christmas present you could give to yourself.

Scottsdale is the classy upscale suburb of Phoenix.  And on the edge of Scottsdale, right next to the Tonto National Forest in the shadow of Pinnacle Peak, lies a resort community with the marvelous name of Carefree.  Carefree, Arizona. Doesn't that sound like the perfect place to escape from all the insanity and gloom pervading our country, an oasis for rational conservatives to join together for their winter rendezvous? Well, that's where the TTP Winter Rendezvous will be:  at the Carefree Resort & Villas, January 23-25.  It's a beautiful and serene place where you can luxuriate and relax, sharing companionship with your fellow TTPers, raising a glass with the toast:  NMP is NOP.  Not-My-President is Not Our Problem.  At least for the weekend.

We'll get to what you can do in a moment, but first we're going to talk about bear fat. From time immemorial, the Apache Indians in what is now Arizona have had a fool-proof way of determining if the coming winter would be cold or mild.  Sometime around October or so, they go into the mountains and shoot a bear.  They stopped using arrows to do this a long time ago. Skinning out the bear, they examine its fat layer under the skin.  If it's thin and less viscous, the winter will be mild;  the thicker and more viscous, the colder the winter will be.  The Apaches on bear hunts over the past few weeks report the latter. Ask ranchers out West, and they'll tell you that the coats of coyotes, ground squirrels, horses, cows, and any other critter with fur or a hide that lives outdoors are thicker this fall. You'd be wise to pay attention to the Apaches and the ranchers, to the bears and coyotes, in preparing for this winter, rather than Algore and the glowarmers, or you are going to freeze your tush off. 

Frugality is in vogue and is going to be a necessity for a lot of folks these days. If you are using Windows, MacOSX, or Linux, save yourself a bundle of cash and download the free OpenOffice suite. It can open Microsoft office documents, and documents created by OpenOffice can be opened by Microsoft Office. As you well know Microsoft Office does not come cheap, even in upgrade forms. This free suite will save you hundreds of dollars, in a time when dollars are becoming harder to come by. OpenOffice can be downloaded for free here: OpenOffice Safety is a concern for all of us in this troubled world and online, one has to be cautious. One way to add to your protection is...

WHY DEMOCRATS CANNOT DEFEND AMERICA

The To The Point Phoenix Rendezvous is little more than two months away: January 23-25.  It will be a conspiracy - TTPers plotting how best to survive the depredations of the coming NMP Regime. As we said in the immediate wake of last week's electoral insanity, TTP will be focusing on practical survival, on preserving and even expanding your freedom and pocketbook. Yet - a big yet - there are a number of things that we can't put in print, but can only discuss in a completely closed-session off-the-books personal discussion - and that's what we'll be doing in Phoenix.  We'll be sending you the details regarding the venues and costs shortly.  But to get in an early reservation and deposit, as we can accommodate a limited number, please email Miko, TTP's general manager, at [email protected]  now. Speaking of now, however, let's get to work on some initial steps you can take to protect yourself personally and financially.  Here are two ways to consider regarding what to do with your money, one relative, one absolute.

Her name was Jacqueline. I thought of her as I stood on the beach looking out at the waves. It was a lonely stretch of beach in north Malibu, near the Ventura County Line. Far away from the frenetic bustle of L.A., I had moved up here where it was peaceful and quiet, where I could walk on the beach in solitude and recover from her loss. She was born in the French Alps, the daughter of a cheesemaker. Growing up in the rustic village of Villette‑par‑Aime in the province of Savoie south of Mont Blanc, she had had a Heidi‑like childhood ‑‑ herding sheep, milking cows, gathering wild raspberries and mushrooms in the forest. She grew up to be a tough strong mountain girl, helping her family eke out the montagnard (French mountain peasant) way of life amongst the glaciers and waterfalls, the high alpine pastures strewn with wildflowers, the valleys and crags of the Alps. Finishing the local school, she made her way to Paris as a magician's apprentice in a traveling magic show that toured through the small villages and towns of France, from Provence to Gascony, from Brittany to Champagne. Once in Paris, she struggled at part‑time office jobs while taking singing and dancing lessons at night. The lessons paid off when she was hired by the legendary Folies Bergère. With her spectacular beauty, she quickly became the world famous show's principal showgirl, idolized by all of Paris and surrounded by a horde of admirers ‑‑ writers, directors, millionaires, and playboys. "Every night," she had told me, "there would be so many roses in my dressing room I hardly had any space to change costumes. And just two years before, I was digging potatoes with my mother and herding cows with my father!" Her life had become a dream. But her greatest dream lay beyond Paris ‑‑ it was to come to America.

With the wind chill, it was around 50‑60 degrees below zero. I sat on my heels in the back of the Twin‑Otter and looked out the open door of the plane to the sea of white below. We were 8,000 feet above the ice and making our jump run. Some tiny black specks appeared on the ice in the distance. "Left five degrees!" I called out through my face mask, and Rocky nudged the Otter toward the specks.

"All right, man, how do you feel?' I asked myself. "Are you nervous?" I took a deep breath and relaxed, just letting whatever emotions were there come up. I had expected the reply to be, " What, are you kidding?!? I'm terrified!!" But no, to my surprise, I felt incredibly calm and peaceful.

Memories of the past four years raced through me like a flash flood. All the ecstasy and magic ‑‑ then all the pain and grief and mourning. A year ago, I wasn't sure whether I wanted to live or not. Learning how to sky‑dive when you don't know if you want to live is a good way to find out.

On a late September day in 1995, I was washing the family station wagon in the driveway of our home in McLean, Virginia, when my wife called out, "Dana's on the phone for you." Rebel brought me the phone and I heard a familiar voice.  "Hey, Wheeler, there are some Russians coming by my office around four this afternoon - the Deputy Mayor of St. Petersburg and his entourage.  You need to be there." I looked at my watch.  "Dana, it's two o'clock already.  You sure?" "Well, I don't know anyone who's been to Russia more than you whose opinion I can really trust.  I'd really like you to be here." How could I turn that down? I'd known Dana Rohrabacher since we were in Youth For Reagan during Ronald Reagan's first campaign for governor of California in 1966.  Now, almost 30 years later, Dana was a Member of Congress, and on the powerful International Relations Committee. So I finished up with the car, put on the Washington costume of dark suit and tie, and motored down the George Washington Parkway to DC and Dana's office in the House Rayburn Building.  The meeting went well.  This was the time of Good Feelings between Boris Yeltsin's Russia and America, and there was a camaraderie between us all. So much so that Dana suggested at the meeting's close, since he had no more meetings scheduled, why don't we all have a beer together at the Irish Times pub on the other side of Capitol Hill? Beer?  The Russians thought that was a great idea.