The debt “crisis” has been averted and the chattering class is trying to assess who won and who lost in this frivolous mockery of government. The debt ceiling is an invention of congress to pretend that they are thoughtful, considerate stewards of the public trust, but as recent weeks has aptly demonstrated, they are no such thing. We all are big losers from this high stakes radical roulette game of chicken that has been perpetrated on the country. Fortunately, President Obama did not take the bait to expand the powers of the executive branch even further, or we would all be further behind. We can all be grateful that the damage was no worse than it was.
Those among the American people who bother to watch or engage in some way, have virtually choked to death on the dry political calculus that masquerades as government. Lucky us, we’ll all get to go through this again in another year and a half.
Meanwhile, the actual business of governing this country has been sacrificed on the altar of political drama and meaningless political posturing. Why is air traffic safety of so little importance? The simpletons who amble about the halls of congress cannot hold more than one idea in their heads at a time. Jobs are just fodder for talking points, since upwards of 90,000 construction jobs are put on hold while congress takes their “well deserved” break for the summer. I hope all the government workers who are furloughed will find time to fill the town hall meetings of their representatives with the same zeal as the imported brown shirts did for the health care “debate.”
We need jobs. We need help. We need a functioning brain among those who feign leadership in our democracy. All I can say is, “It does not have to be like this.” We get the goverment we deserve.

A 9/ll Tribute To A Friend
In 1967 I was in the band with Chic Burlingame at Anaheim High School. He was extremely intelligent and loved to laugh, and played the trumpet well. I knew Chic as a classmate, as well as his brother Mark. Mark went on to be a physician and Chic became a naval aviator. When I was in the air wing of the USMC, I got to know a lot of naval aviators, and they were, shall I say, a wild bunch of crazy guys. It takes nerves of steel to crash land millions of dollars of high priced military muscle into the pitching deck of an aircraft carrier, and euphemistically call it a “landing.” The last time I saw Chic was at a high school reunion, probably 1997, the years run together after a while. Anyway, he looked great and still seemed to be enjoying himself. I cannot covey how shocked I was to learn that Chic (Charles F. Burlingame III) was the pilot of flight 77 that crashed into the Pentagon. I know in my heart that he must have already been dead when the plane made contact, because there is simply no way he would have allowed the terrorists to take control. Anyone who knows naval aviators would agree that there just is no surrender in those guys (think John McCain).
There is no way for us to know, I don’t believe, what happened in those last few moments of that flight–I certainly am unaware of a cockpit recording. Chic died a hero, as did so many others that day. I personally resent the conspiracy theorists who try to suggest that he flew that plane into the Pentagon. He worked there and probably knew some of the people who were killed. Even with knives at his throat, they would not have gotten him to cooperate.
That’s why it was such an injustice when the Burlingame family had to go through an incredible ordeal to have him buried near his dad at Arlington National Cemetery. I was friends with Chic’s mom and dad as well, and thought the world of them. Charles F. II was an amazing man and I had tremendous respect for him. His mom always reminded me of Suzanne Pleshette and was truly one of the most unforgettable people I have known.
I know my classmates and all of Anaheim High School, and the city, have honored his memory. I did not know Chic’s younger siblings Brad and Wendy, because they were probably not at Anaheim High when I was there. For Mark, Brad, and Wendy, I feel badly that they get swept up in all the recurring pain of the annual remembrance of those tragic events. I hope that they have, or may one day find, peace with all the notoriety that goes along with their family tragedy, and our national wound.
I choose today to remember the man with the infectious smile and the irrepressible laugh, who served and fought for his country because it was in his heart to do so. He is honored now as best his country can do, there among the fallen but not forgotten. I will hear his trumpet when taps is sounded at the memorial. I will hear his mom and dad singing God of Our Fathers as we did at Thanksgiving with the church choir. It is my privilege now, then, and always to say I called Chic Burlingame, my friend. Rest in peace my friend, rest in peace.