Wow!! It's been 3 years since my last blog! I'm back! The Open Mic is doing well, over 7 years and thriving! My band is cool. The most important thing I do is playing and producing Benefit Concerts! We have raised thousands for Babylon Breast Cancer Awareness, Operation Proud Hearts, Alex's lemonade Stand, Make A Wish, St. Jude's Children's Hospital, Sandy Hook elementary school, VFW, American Legion, Hurricane Sandy, and many local Long Island causes.
On 6/22/13, we are doing a Benefit Show for Joey Visone. He is a 15 year old from Sayville, NY, who has brain cancer. Please help!
Thanks
www.davedrewrocks.com
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
A COUNTRY DIVIDED AGAINST ITSELF.......
I watched possibly the saddest thing I have ever seen in my life in the great country that I love. It was on September 11, 2010, on the streets of New York City. On the anniversary of the worst day in most of our lives, there were two groups of patriotic Americans, screaming at each other. It was a sad and direct contrast to the events of September, 11, 2001.
On 9/11/2001, we were not different tribes, cultures, nationalities, or religions. We were all Americans. We helped each other, we saved each other, and many died helping each other. We all felt a bond and realized that we are in this together.
Now 9 years have passed since that horrible day. It seems as though the American family has divided. Politics and hate seem to be the rule of today. In the recent bill in congress to allow extended medical benefits to 9/11 first responders, the republicans voted unanimously against it. Sadly, 14 democrats did as well so it did not pass. I guess a multi billion dollar bailout to the banks is OK but a few bucks for our heroes is not.
I write, I speak, I sing for the liberty of all. Again, I am called a "liberal" as if that is a bad thing. Old friends talk, sometimes walk away, as though I am somehow the enemy. They embrace, and sometimes chase, the cause of those who hate. I know that hate is not in their heart. I love them just the same. I am sure the anger they feel is borne out of pain. Pain will only fester and grow without relief. An old friend sang about love on 9/11. I know it is his belief.
So why was it so astoundingly sad that two groups of patriotic Americans were screaming at each other on 9/11/10? They were divided on the validity of Our Constitution.
" Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press, or the right of people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievences."
When we are hurt so badly due to the fiendish acts of a few, to the point where we are SCREAMING at each other over the validity of the greatest document ever written by men.....
Then The Evil Has WON.
DD
On 9/11/2001, we were not different tribes, cultures, nationalities, or religions. We were all Americans. We helped each other, we saved each other, and many died helping each other. We all felt a bond and realized that we are in this together.
Now 9 years have passed since that horrible day. It seems as though the American family has divided. Politics and hate seem to be the rule of today. In the recent bill in congress to allow extended medical benefits to 9/11 first responders, the republicans voted unanimously against it. Sadly, 14 democrats did as well so it did not pass. I guess a multi billion dollar bailout to the banks is OK but a few bucks for our heroes is not.
I write, I speak, I sing for the liberty of all. Again, I am called a "liberal" as if that is a bad thing. Old friends talk, sometimes walk away, as though I am somehow the enemy. They embrace, and sometimes chase, the cause of those who hate. I know that hate is not in their heart. I love them just the same. I am sure the anger they feel is borne out of pain. Pain will only fester and grow without relief. An old friend sang about love on 9/11. I know it is his belief.
So why was it so astoundingly sad that two groups of patriotic Americans were screaming at each other on 9/11/10? They were divided on the validity of Our Constitution.
" Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press, or the right of people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievences."
When we are hurt so badly due to the fiendish acts of a few, to the point where we are SCREAMING at each other over the validity of the greatest document ever written by men.....
Then The Evil Has WON.
DD
Friday, September 10, 2010
JOHNNY THORPE
As another summer passes, the air grows colder, and a new school year begins, I will always remember 1968. This is a true story I wrote about a very dear friend.
JOHNNY THORPE
An essay by Dave Drew
I entered fourth grade in September of 1968. At St. Brigid School in Westbury, Long Island, New York, the kids in each class stayed the same from first through the eighth grade so we knew who to look for and share the stories of our two glorious months of Summer vacation. The one thing we never knew until that first day was who our teacher was going to be. As we got off our busses, we were told to report to room 205. By this time we knew the drill: sit in alphabetical order in rows from one through five. We had 45 kids in our class so I took up my place in row 1, seat 9 (nice!).
Mrs. Bodie entered the classroom. She was very old (to a bunch of 9 year olds) and she had the reputation of being very strict. We were actually relieved to have her instead of one of the nuns (they were borderline psychotic). After introducing herself, writing her name on the blackboard, and explaining the rules (pencils for math only, cartridge pens for all other writing-NO BALL POINT PENS), Mrs. Bodie read the roll.
When she got to me, she paused and asked if I was related to Ellen Drew. I told her that she was my big sister. A smile came to her face and she proudly told the class that Ellen Drew was the best student she ever had and that we should all try to be just like her. This was pressure that I just didn’t need, but as a shy yet attention craving little kid, suddenly I felt strangely important.
Later that night, I talked to Ellen about this. She graduated High School the year before and had just begun her second year commuting to Roosevelt Hospital in Manhattan where she was enrolled in Nursing School. Ellen told me that Mrs. Bodie loved her and made her sit in front of her desk for the entire year. Ellen said that Mrs. Bodie was old when she was in fourth grade but Mrs.Bodie was a really great teacher (you know, one of the good ones you never forget).
The next day, the seats in the classroom were rearranged into 6 rows. I was now in the second row, first seat, right in front of Mrs. Bodie. (Oh great). Every morning at St. Brigid, The principal, Sister Augustine (we called her Sister Disgustin’) led the morning prayers through the speaker box just below the crucifix in the front of the room. Mrs. Bodie read the roll. When she got to me this time she paused and asked if I knew Johnny Thorpe. Of course I knew Johnny Thorpe. He was the coolest kid on our whole block. Mrs. Bodie then began a string of stories that she would repeat and expand upon every day for the next 3 weeks. “ Johnny was a cut up but he always tried his best.” “Johnny wasn’t the best student but he had integrity”. “He would make mistakes but always owned up to them”. He was a direct contrast to my sister who was always perfect. I thought “I’m really in trouble now”.
Johnny was the coolest kid on the block. The Thorpes lived right across the street on Evelyn Ave. This was a typical suburban neighborhood in the baby boomer sixties. There were kids everywhere. We had bases painted on the street for the endless baseball games. We all had above ground pools in our backyards. Johnny was always nice to me. I think it was because he had a crush on Ellen since the first grade, but it didn’t matter. He was like a big brother. If you heard something sounding like a lawnmower flying down the street, you knew Johnny had built another motor bike or go-kart. He dated Ellen a few times when they were about 16, but it never amounted to anything. Johnny had a 55 Chevy in his garage that he was always tinkering with. I loved looking at all of his tools and the projects he had going on.
John was an only child. His parents had him relatively late in life and they doted on him. He never got into any real trouble and he was a gifted mechanic. He was a lot of fun. He told me my first dirty joke. He was drafted into the army in 1967, not long after his High School graduation. Soon after, the Thorpes moved to a smaller house on a quieter street in Huntington, NY. They missed John....So did I.
I used to play army all the time. My Dad was a World War II veteran as were most dads on the block. When I wasn’t pretending to be him, shooting Nazis, I was pretending to be Johnny, shooting commies. We watched the News on TV every night. It reminded me of a football game. They would lead with the score: 14 Americans dead, 36 Viet Cong dead. Yessss! We won again.
Back in school I was becoming a teacher’s pet and I was enjoying my new found popularity. The other kids thought it was pretty cool that I actually knew the people that Mrs. Bodie was talking about. I was awarded some pretty special duties. I was allowed to help the sixth graders dispense Holy Water. I was allowed to help the Boy Scouts raise and lower the flag each day. The first 3 weeks in fourth grade may have been the best time of my life.
I came home on Friday, had tea and cookies with my Mom, and went out to play with my friends on the block. We played some baseball (I was Tom Seaver) and played army (I was Johnny) and waited for our Moms to call us in for dinner. My Mom called me later than usual. When I walked in the front door, I saw Ellen crying. I knew something very bad had happened.
My Dad put his hand on my shoulder and told me that John Thorpe was killed in Viet Nam. They left to visit the Thorpes. I don’t remember anything else about that night. It didn’t really hit me. It was just like the scores on TV.
Monday morning, before the announcements and morning prayers, I went to Mrs. Bodie. I wasn’t sure how to tell her. (Why was this horrible task left up to me.? I was only 9!) I said “Remember Johnny Thorpe?” (Of course she did, she talked about him every day). I told her that he died in Viet Nam.
Her eyes filled with tears and she left the room and closed the door. I just put my head down on my desk because I didn’t want the other kids to see me cry. They all started whispering and then talking and soon spitballs were flying and there was noise like fourth graders make when the teacher is away.
Sister Augustine (rhymes with disgustin’) said through the speaker box just below the crucifix that a former St. Brigid student, John Thorpe, died fighting for his country. The class was silent. She led us all in an Our Father and a Hail Mary. After about 30 seconds, the noise in the class began again. My head was still down on my desk.
Through the noise I heard Mrs. Bodie in the hall.....weeping. I wished I never told her.
Mrs. Bodie entered the room and said “Please open up your math books to page 14.” She never mentioned Ellen or Johnny Thorpe again.
I never played army anymore. That day still haunts me. I dream about it.
Within a few years, John’s parents passed away. They never got over it.
I go to Washington every few years and I always take the time to go to the wall and touch his name.
DD
JOHNNY THORPE
An essay by Dave Drew
I entered fourth grade in September of 1968. At St. Brigid School in Westbury, Long Island, New York, the kids in each class stayed the same from first through the eighth grade so we knew who to look for and share the stories of our two glorious months of Summer vacation. The one thing we never knew until that first day was who our teacher was going to be. As we got off our busses, we were told to report to room 205. By this time we knew the drill: sit in alphabetical order in rows from one through five. We had 45 kids in our class so I took up my place in row 1, seat 9 (nice!).
Mrs. Bodie entered the classroom. She was very old (to a bunch of 9 year olds) and she had the reputation of being very strict. We were actually relieved to have her instead of one of the nuns (they were borderline psychotic). After introducing herself, writing her name on the blackboard, and explaining the rules (pencils for math only, cartridge pens for all other writing-NO BALL POINT PENS), Mrs. Bodie read the roll.
When she got to me, she paused and asked if I was related to Ellen Drew. I told her that she was my big sister. A smile came to her face and she proudly told the class that Ellen Drew was the best student she ever had and that we should all try to be just like her. This was pressure that I just didn’t need, but as a shy yet attention craving little kid, suddenly I felt strangely important.
Later that night, I talked to Ellen about this. She graduated High School the year before and had just begun her second year commuting to Roosevelt Hospital in Manhattan where she was enrolled in Nursing School. Ellen told me that Mrs. Bodie loved her and made her sit in front of her desk for the entire year. Ellen said that Mrs. Bodie was old when she was in fourth grade but Mrs.Bodie was a really great teacher (you know, one of the good ones you never forget).
The next day, the seats in the classroom were rearranged into 6 rows. I was now in the second row, first seat, right in front of Mrs. Bodie. (Oh great). Every morning at St. Brigid, The principal, Sister Augustine (we called her Sister Disgustin’) led the morning prayers through the speaker box just below the crucifix in the front of the room. Mrs. Bodie read the roll. When she got to me this time she paused and asked if I knew Johnny Thorpe. Of course I knew Johnny Thorpe. He was the coolest kid on our whole block. Mrs. Bodie then began a string of stories that she would repeat and expand upon every day for the next 3 weeks. “ Johnny was a cut up but he always tried his best.” “Johnny wasn’t the best student but he had integrity”. “He would make mistakes but always owned up to them”. He was a direct contrast to my sister who was always perfect. I thought “I’m really in trouble now”.
Johnny was the coolest kid on the block. The Thorpes lived right across the street on Evelyn Ave. This was a typical suburban neighborhood in the baby boomer sixties. There were kids everywhere. We had bases painted on the street for the endless baseball games. We all had above ground pools in our backyards. Johnny was always nice to me. I think it was because he had a crush on Ellen since the first grade, but it didn’t matter. He was like a big brother. If you heard something sounding like a lawnmower flying down the street, you knew Johnny had built another motor bike or go-kart. He dated Ellen a few times when they were about 16, but it never amounted to anything. Johnny had a 55 Chevy in his garage that he was always tinkering with. I loved looking at all of his tools and the projects he had going on.
John was an only child. His parents had him relatively late in life and they doted on him. He never got into any real trouble and he was a gifted mechanic. He was a lot of fun. He told me my first dirty joke. He was drafted into the army in 1967, not long after his High School graduation. Soon after, the Thorpes moved to a smaller house on a quieter street in Huntington, NY. They missed John....So did I.
I used to play army all the time. My Dad was a World War II veteran as were most dads on the block. When I wasn’t pretending to be him, shooting Nazis, I was pretending to be Johnny, shooting commies. We watched the News on TV every night. It reminded me of a football game. They would lead with the score: 14 Americans dead, 36 Viet Cong dead. Yessss! We won again.
Back in school I was becoming a teacher’s pet and I was enjoying my new found popularity. The other kids thought it was pretty cool that I actually knew the people that Mrs. Bodie was talking about. I was awarded some pretty special duties. I was allowed to help the sixth graders dispense Holy Water. I was allowed to help the Boy Scouts raise and lower the flag each day. The first 3 weeks in fourth grade may have been the best time of my life.
I came home on Friday, had tea and cookies with my Mom, and went out to play with my friends on the block. We played some baseball (I was Tom Seaver) and played army (I was Johnny) and waited for our Moms to call us in for dinner. My Mom called me later than usual. When I walked in the front door, I saw Ellen crying. I knew something very bad had happened.
My Dad put his hand on my shoulder and told me that John Thorpe was killed in Viet Nam. They left to visit the Thorpes. I don’t remember anything else about that night. It didn’t really hit me. It was just like the scores on TV.
Monday morning, before the announcements and morning prayers, I went to Mrs. Bodie. I wasn’t sure how to tell her. (Why was this horrible task left up to me.? I was only 9!) I said “Remember Johnny Thorpe?” (Of course she did, she talked about him every day). I told her that he died in Viet Nam.
Her eyes filled with tears and she left the room and closed the door. I just put my head down on my desk because I didn’t want the other kids to see me cry. They all started whispering and then talking and soon spitballs were flying and there was noise like fourth graders make when the teacher is away.
Sister Augustine (rhymes with disgustin’) said through the speaker box just below the crucifix that a former St. Brigid student, John Thorpe, died fighting for his country. The class was silent. She led us all in an Our Father and a Hail Mary. After about 30 seconds, the noise in the class began again. My head was still down on my desk.
Through the noise I heard Mrs. Bodie in the hall.....weeping. I wished I never told her.
Mrs. Bodie entered the room and said “Please open up your math books to page 14.” She never mentioned Ellen or Johnny Thorpe again.
I never played army anymore. That day still haunts me. I dream about it.
Within a few years, John’s parents passed away. They never got over it.
I go to Washington every few years and I always take the time to go to the wall and touch his name.
DD
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Freedom of Religion
I had the good fortune to attend 12 years of Catholic School. We had a class called Religion. It was not bible studies which are nothing more than propaganda lessons at many so called "Christian Schools". Religion Class at St. Brigid and Holy Trinity were an exploration into all religions with a focus on the Roman Catholic faith. We were taught that all forms of worship were fundamentaly good and most began from the same basic roots.
I tried to explain Islam to a friend who was a 9/11 first responder. He said "everything I want to know about Islam, I learned on 9/11."
Sadly, that same sentiment is shared by many who know very little about religion, The Constitution, and our country.
Ignorance is at a Zenith in America. The best example is the "Mosque at Ground Zero".
I'm not going to tread out the arguments here. I can only observe that the inteligent, educated, and informed have no problem with this. The opposite side is filled with hate mongers, xenophobes, and those who exploit the uneducated (Fox News, etc).
The educated among us (I use that term loosely due to the thousands who graduate with little real education) understand our Constitution. We know that particular document made this country great. Those who try to dismiss Article One from The Bill of Rights will never understand why our country became great. They will continue to complain about foreigners, gays, muslims, liberals, bloggers, songwriters, etc.
Please build your churches, temples, mosques. Just stop building hate.
DD
I tried to explain Islam to a friend who was a 9/11 first responder. He said "everything I want to know about Islam, I learned on 9/11."
Sadly, that same sentiment is shared by many who know very little about religion, The Constitution, and our country.
Ignorance is at a Zenith in America. The best example is the "Mosque at Ground Zero".
I'm not going to tread out the arguments here. I can only observe that the inteligent, educated, and informed have no problem with this. The opposite side is filled with hate mongers, xenophobes, and those who exploit the uneducated (Fox News, etc).
The educated among us (I use that term loosely due to the thousands who graduate with little real education) understand our Constitution. We know that particular document made this country great. Those who try to dismiss Article One from The Bill of Rights will never understand why our country became great. They will continue to complain about foreigners, gays, muslims, liberals, bloggers, songwriters, etc.
Please build your churches, temples, mosques. Just stop building hate.
DD
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
1969 - The Year of Miracles!
I was 10 years old in 1969. That was the year that everything changed. My eyes were opened to the world and all it's wonder and to the amazing glory that is life.
I had already encountered sorrow and the loss of a friend in Viet Nam. His Name was Johnny Thorp and he was killed in October of 1968. We used to play baseball and football in the street outside of our houses in suburban America. In this case it was Westbury, Long Island, New York.
I was a Jets Fan. They became the AFL champions and were facing the NFL champs and overwhelming favorite Baltimore Colts in SuperBowl III. This was January, 1969 (The Year of Miracles). As Joe Namath predicted, The Jets won!
When the baseball season began, I had no expectations that The Mets would do any better than their history suggested. They started out strong and by July 4, they were in 2nd place, still far away from the first place Cubs. My grandpa, James Edgar, was dying of cancer. He lived in Elmhurst, Queens, NY. It was a stones throw from Shea Stadium. He was a World War I hero and he loved his Mets. I remember telling him that I think the Mets can do it! He was less optimistic.
On July 20, we put a man on the moon!! If we could do that, we could do anything!!!
On August 15, 500,000 people gathered in Bethel, NY, for The Woodstock music and art festival! For 3 days, Bethel was the 3rd biggest city in New York! There was NO violence! Just Peace, Music, and friendship. That's a miracle!!
On September 24, The NY Mets clinched first place in the Eastern Division of The National League.
On October 2nd, My Grandpa died.
Our Mets beat the Braves in The NLCS and Won The World Series from the overwhelming favorite Baltimore Orioles. It was a good year for New York, a tough one for Baltimore.
1969 was a year of miracles! It shaped my life and my outlook on nearly everything. I look back and remember that year more fondly than most. It was truly the best of times and the worst of times. I choose to remember the best.
Dave
I had already encountered sorrow and the loss of a friend in Viet Nam. His Name was Johnny Thorp and he was killed in October of 1968. We used to play baseball and football in the street outside of our houses in suburban America. In this case it was Westbury, Long Island, New York.
I was a Jets Fan. They became the AFL champions and were facing the NFL champs and overwhelming favorite Baltimore Colts in SuperBowl III. This was January, 1969 (The Year of Miracles). As Joe Namath predicted, The Jets won!
When the baseball season began, I had no expectations that The Mets would do any better than their history suggested. They started out strong and by July 4, they were in 2nd place, still far away from the first place Cubs. My grandpa, James Edgar, was dying of cancer. He lived in Elmhurst, Queens, NY. It was a stones throw from Shea Stadium. He was a World War I hero and he loved his Mets. I remember telling him that I think the Mets can do it! He was less optimistic.
On July 20, we put a man on the moon!! If we could do that, we could do anything!!!
On August 15, 500,000 people gathered in Bethel, NY, for The Woodstock music and art festival! For 3 days, Bethel was the 3rd biggest city in New York! There was NO violence! Just Peace, Music, and friendship. That's a miracle!!
On September 24, The NY Mets clinched first place in the Eastern Division of The National League.
On October 2nd, My Grandpa died.
Our Mets beat the Braves in The NLCS and Won The World Series from the overwhelming favorite Baltimore Orioles. It was a good year for New York, a tough one for Baltimore.
1969 was a year of miracles! It shaped my life and my outlook on nearly everything. I look back and remember that year more fondly than most. It was truly the best of times and the worst of times. I choose to remember the best.
Dave
Friday, May 1, 2009
Sweet Swine O' Mine
The latest Media fueled panic is over something called Swine Flu. It is a strain of influenza which apparently originated in Mexico and has spread to various quarters through tourism. The real occurance of this latest "pandemic" has been extremely small and the few real reported cases are proving to be no more harmful than the many other strains of flu that appear every year.
However, due to media induced fear, people have been seen wearing surgical masks in of all places, Times Square!!! This is probably the most visited location in America by people from around the world. There are probably more germs floating around Times Square than in any other stretch of blocks in the country.
What these mask wearing morons obviously don't understand is that surgical masks don't keep you from contracting the contagion, they only keep you from spreading it (marginally)!
Due to our natural defenses, it is HIGHLY unlikely to contract influenza or a common cold through our noses and mouths. It is almost always contracted through hand to eye contact. Our eyes don't have the same protection as our other orifaces. When you touch a door knob or other object that someone has spread the germ on, possibly by coughing or sneezing on their hand, and then touch your eye, you have a far better chance of getting the "bug".
Surgeons wear masks in operating rooms to protect the patients who are literally open for infections, not to protect themselves.
President Obama was spot on in his advice. Wash your hands!
The reason I am writing this is because I host an Open Mic Night every Monday at Bartini Bar in Babylon, New York. A few musicians have expressed concern that the microphones may spread the nasty swine. That is Hogwash (pardon the bad pun)!!! You are far more likely to get it from an ATM, gas pump, door knob, stair rail, the handle on the coffee pot at 7-11, a menu, a supermarket cart, and MONEY!!! If I was a terrorist, I would infect the money!
So fear not my friends! You will survive. You can even tell your grandchildren " I had The Swine Flu and Lived"! If you do contract Swine Flu, come and sing at my Open Mic! Just don't touch anything!!!
DD
However, due to media induced fear, people have been seen wearing surgical masks in of all places, Times Square!!! This is probably the most visited location in America by people from around the world. There are probably more germs floating around Times Square than in any other stretch of blocks in the country.
What these mask wearing morons obviously don't understand is that surgical masks don't keep you from contracting the contagion, they only keep you from spreading it (marginally)!
Due to our natural defenses, it is HIGHLY unlikely to contract influenza or a common cold through our noses and mouths. It is almost always contracted through hand to eye contact. Our eyes don't have the same protection as our other orifaces. When you touch a door knob or other object that someone has spread the germ on, possibly by coughing or sneezing on their hand, and then touch your eye, you have a far better chance of getting the "bug".
Surgeons wear masks in operating rooms to protect the patients who are literally open for infections, not to protect themselves.
President Obama was spot on in his advice. Wash your hands!
The reason I am writing this is because I host an Open Mic Night every Monday at Bartini Bar in Babylon, New York. A few musicians have expressed concern that the microphones may spread the nasty swine. That is Hogwash (pardon the bad pun)!!! You are far more likely to get it from an ATM, gas pump, door knob, stair rail, the handle on the coffee pot at 7-11, a menu, a supermarket cart, and MONEY!!! If I was a terrorist, I would infect the money!
So fear not my friends! You will survive. You can even tell your grandchildren " I had The Swine Flu and Lived"! If you do contract Swine Flu, come and sing at my Open Mic! Just don't touch anything!!!
DD
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Obama to the Rescue!
President Obama faced his first international crisis when a band of Somali pirates boarded an American Cargo ship, took the Captain hostage and demanded 2 million dollars for his release. The President refused to comment publicly during the ordeal and was almost immediately criticized by the republicans, most notably Newt Gingrich for failing to "act decisively".
What we didn't know was that The President called together military strategists, law enforcement officials, and various experts to figure out a plan to thwart the criminals and rescue Captain Phillips. There were 17 such meetings during the 5 day ordeal. President Obama authorized precise military action with the safety of Captain Phillips as the primary objective.
As we know, the operation was a resounding success.
Even Newt Gingrich ate proverbial crow and admitted that The President and the military were correct in their actions. What is truly stunning is that many of those lovable right wing fanatics refuse to give our President the proper respect for dealing with this crisis in a decisive and successful way.
It is certain that if the mission failed, Obama would be the one to be blamed. Since it did not fail, even the republicans should be giving him the credit.
I can only imagine how George W. Bush would have handled it. After waking up from his nap, he probably would have made a public statement that the evil doers would pay. He then would have aroused Dick Cheney from his bunker who would have ordered the bombing of the life boat. Captain Phillips would have died of course and the pirates would have escaped. We then would have bombed the villages of Somalia without ever killing or capturing the pirates, just thousands of innocent Somalis.
We then would have invaded Madagascar!!!!!
DD
What we didn't know was that The President called together military strategists, law enforcement officials, and various experts to figure out a plan to thwart the criminals and rescue Captain Phillips. There were 17 such meetings during the 5 day ordeal. President Obama authorized precise military action with the safety of Captain Phillips as the primary objective.
As we know, the operation was a resounding success.
Even Newt Gingrich ate proverbial crow and admitted that The President and the military were correct in their actions. What is truly stunning is that many of those lovable right wing fanatics refuse to give our President the proper respect for dealing with this crisis in a decisive and successful way.
It is certain that if the mission failed, Obama would be the one to be blamed. Since it did not fail, even the republicans should be giving him the credit.
I can only imagine how George W. Bush would have handled it. After waking up from his nap, he probably would have made a public statement that the evil doers would pay. He then would have aroused Dick Cheney from his bunker who would have ordered the bombing of the life boat. Captain Phillips would have died of course and the pirates would have escaped. We then would have bombed the villages of Somalia without ever killing or capturing the pirates, just thousands of innocent Somalis.
We then would have invaded Madagascar!!!!!
DD
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