thoughts from an airport

I am enduring a delay at O’Hare, drinking at Chilis and thumbing through this week's Newsweek (blogging from my Treo). I am sick. I am dumbfounded. I am weeping. Openly.

Contrast that with a blog I read today that attributed America's success in Iraq to George Bush, but its failure to our troops. Has there ever been a more reprehensible opinion?

Right now I am reading soldiers' own words, in their own handwriting, on their own stationery, and I know they have a courage I'll never know.

And yet, somehow these letters from the front lines have posthumously reached this privileged (and half drunk) liberal, and I know that I need to do more to ensure that no one has to read more letters like this in the future.

I say that supporting our troops does not mean supporting their mission, but ending it. I say that opposing our president does not embolden the enemy, but weaken their cause.

I say that my tears over an Awesome Blossom pale in comparison to the tears shed over thousands of caskets...and that every additional tear is one too many.