"Jaundiced pachyderm" alert: It's taken me a little while to find time to bash out a blog entry on this, but a few things need to be said. A particular anti-war group that's been active at colleges and universities has targeted an organization that's near and dear to my heart: the Montgomery County (Pa.) Young Republicans. Seems a tiny stampede of protesters want all their left of center buddies to spam the volunteer board members of this organization to "encourage" them to enlist. Fine. It would seem that freedom of speech allows these e-warriors to do things that might degrade troop morale or undermine the work of the federal government. And I'm all about the First Amendment. I'm also a big supporter of anyone on the YR board who might want to enlist. Why, it seems like it was just last year that the YRs had to find another volunteer to replace a board member who was headed off to active duty in Iraq. Others in the Montco crowd have done their duty by this country. The chairman of neighboring Chester County also serves, as a Marine reservist. And a Bucks County YR apparently just signed on as a Ranger. Seems the activists' theory that Republicans are afraid of the consequences of "their" war falls short. Hmmmmm ... maybe these glib peaceniks ought to put their money where their mouths are and try some fearless action themselves. They might enjoy a working vacation: I’m sure they could hit up Sean Penn for a job on his film crew on his next visit to Iraq. Or maybe they’re more the "human shield" type. Maybe they'd even consider showing some true compassion and heading over to the war zone as aid workers to help rebuild that strife-ridden country. Who knows? It might it be a better way for them to spend their time than sniping at engaged, active young adults who are trying to do something positive for their communities.

P.S. I almost adventured into another cat. Repeat: I not want a cat. My somewhat-significant other is even allergic to them, I've found. This feline escapade got far enough that I had concurred with my neighbor on an fine name for this dark grey suck-up of a cat. We settled on Church, after a cat in that horrid Stephen King novel and, thus, Sir Winston Churchill. The damned cat would probably have followed me all the way to the pool if I hadn't stopped him. But I am fully convinced that he must have a home. Even if he does need a brushing and a collar.

The Sweetest Man says he isn't. Hmmmm. Furthermore, he doesn't believe in superlatives.

Seven days off from work. As usual, I visited the homestead in Pennsylvania and the sweetest man in New Jersey (who is running for public office, I do believe). I shopped until I dropped, and actually kinda enjoyed it. I discovered a cool new beach at Sandy Hook and sat solo in a [gasp!] bikini, reading and watching some glorious sunsets. I cooked -- oh, how I cooked! I enjoyed the company of old friends in PA, and had some fun dinners out in both states. Sadly, I also attended the funeral of my marvelous old friend, Bert. He will be missed by many. He outlived a woman who has always sounded like his ideal wife and a dear, dear woman whom he lucky enough to meet after her death. His longtime girlfriend was a remarkable woman, a dedicated journalist and a friend of mine, too. I should be so lucky as to live as good, stimulating and full a life as either of them. Remarkably, I was sort of happy to head back to work. Is it possible that I really like my job? One thing's for sure: As much as I was ready to return to the office, I did not want to leave Atlantic Highlands.