Barnie Day was a Democratic delegate from Patrick County from his election in 1997 through the 2001 session. A former county administrator and business owner, he is now a banker. What would Jesus do to a 'conservative' lawyer? Memo to Kaine and Kilgore -- Re: Transportation in Virginia A second letter to Kilgore What we’re really up against Paging Paul Harris, and a word on stem cell research Mr. President, read this column Older Barnie Day columns Join A Discussion Reprint Email this Article

Monday, September 06, 2004

It is a glum and overcast Tuesday morning here in Meadows of Dan. It is early. Real early. I am reading e-mails and press reports from around the state. A few of the regular crazies have checked in — folks who generally love or hate this column. A piece I did the other day on Jerry Falwell’s law school has a few of them frothed up this morning.

I can actually visualize that big vein popping out just a shade off-center of some of the writers’ foreheads. Hey, it takes real writing skill to paint that picture. The folks I hear from are skilled writers.

The weather and the Republican Convention and Ed Schrock are pretty much dominating the state news this morning. Richmond, and a lot of small communities in central Virginia, have practically washed away during the night. A foot of rainfall in just a few hours will do that — or make you think it’s going to do it. In Richmond, the consequences were tragic, a story still unfolding at this writing.

Congressman Ed Schrock, a good man, is quitting his race for re-election. Sure, I’ve had a few breathless e-mails over the past few days in that regard. But I think about that like I think about this: when I was a kid we had "white" and "colored." Now that we’ve become civilized, we have "gay" and "straight."

Unless you’re the victim, it is not quite as pronounced as the system of apartheid we had that history knows as "Jim Crow," but make no mistake — it is the same shameful, disgraceful, unpardonable sort of thing. Lynching is still lynching.

From time to time I am gently upbraided by even some Democrats here in Virginia for being so (gasp!) partisan, for not playing quite the game of footsy with the Right some of them prefer. Be nicer, kinder, gentler, is their advice. But, bless their hearts, they give bum advice.

Ask James Baker and the folks who managed the win for Bush in Florida. Ask Rudy.

Hizzonner took a New York brickbat to John Kerry last night. This guy understands that politics is a full contact sport, more akin to hockey without the helmets than to some hand-holding, think tank, hen club. But even the good mayor made some incredible reaches last night—comparing this Lilliputian to Winston Churchill? Please.

No wonder the mayor was laughing so much during his own speech last night. Just thinking about it after he’d said it, he couldn’t keep a straight face, either.

I could have voted for Senator John McCain —u ntil last night. He gave a good speech — some of the lines were good, even if the delivery was pleadish and whiny. And it didn’t bother me that he took a shot at Michael Moore, even without seeing the movie. Hey, he’s entitled to whatever blinders he wants to wear.

But who would have thought that bootlicking would come so easy to a man of McCain’s experience? Maybe he just wants the presidency so bad himself that he can swallow the sordid lies, the trashing that the Bush campaign gave him in South Carolina last time around. Surprises me, though.

There were a lot of photographs flashed on the big screen behind the podium last night — hundreds of them, mostly from good angles — famous, square-jawed Republicans in one candid shot or another — where else could you see Gerald Ford as Marlboro Man? — but I didn’t notice a single one of our real heroes of late.

Was there even one photograph of even one of the 974 (and counting) Americans who have died in Iraq put up on that big screen? No? When are we going to "out" a few of them? When are we going to stop sneaking these corpses home under the cover of darkness?

In my house, the scariest moment last night was a zoom-in close-up of one of the delegates on the floor. The dog jumped up and growled. The cat’s hair stood up. My wife screamed. I just smiled. My buddy, Tucker Watkins, Senator George Allen’s aide de camp, was lookin’ good.