Currently, I’m reading Monica Crowley’s new book “What the
BLEEP Just Happened?” It’s a great
read. She’s got a chapter in it titled “The
Skinny Socialist is a Big Fat Liar.”
Gotta love Monica for a chapter title like that. Her
last chapter “America Unleashed” pretty much tells the reader: while things may
look bleak now—it’s not over. I still
haven’t been able to bring myself to believe America is over. This country has weathered many storms
throughout history. In the long run, I
believe that America will be able to shake what craven liberals like Obama have
done to this country in the last four years.
Know this: it took many, many years for things to get like
this. It’s going to take many years to
correct the damage that has been done.
We’ll be lucky if we can simply even the score.
Below is a transcription of the beginning of Crowley’s last
chapter. She tells the story of her
conversation with a New York cab driver who hailed from the former Communist
Republic of Bulgaria. It’s amazing what
you we can learn from our friends from the East.
I have had similar encounters with such people. My last interaction was with a sixty
something year old from the former Soviet Union. We were both working the phone bank on an
early Saturday morning for the McCain/Palin campaign just a week before the
general election.
He was an endearing man. Very passionate against Communism.
Like Monica’s cabbie, he’d seen full blown communism and oppression up
close. He fled it to America in 1982,
married and began his new life here. With
his thick Russian accent 26 years later, here he was two cubicles away from me
trying to warn voters of what was about to happen if they elected a communist
into the highest office in the land.
Needless to say, America didn’t listen.
I’m proud to say that I have a story to tell that’s similar
to the one below. I was lucky to
encounter such wisdom by a person from another world. I, like many conservatives in 2008, understood
his warning.
“You are American, yes?” The burly NYC cabbie
looked at me through the rearview mirror as he asked the question, his voice
saturated in a heavy Eastern European accent.
“Yes I am,” I replied.
“Tell me: what are you doing?”
About a year into Barack Obama’s presidency, I
climbed into this man’s cab for a short trip across Manhattan. Engaging city taxi drivers can go one of two
ways: it can be enjoyable, interesting experience
or it can in end in a torrent of profanity in multiple languages. This particular cabdriver was friendly and
gregarious, particularly when I asked him about the source of his accent.
“The Bronx,” he replied. “Oh, you mean where am I from?” He paused for a moment and then said, “I was
born in Bulgaria. But I am an American.” And then this big, strapping man grew
emotional as he told me his story: “I am
American by choice. And you’ll forgive
me, but I think those of us who are Americans by choice rather than by birth
have a different view. Many Americans,
you do not appreciate your freedom. You
have always had it. You don’t know
anything else. I have lived under
communism. I have been beaten and put in
jail. I have heard the knock of the secret police in the middle of the
night. I have seen neighbors disappear. I have had the government open my mail and
listen in to my phone. I have gone days eating potatoes because the store
shelves were bare. There was no
medicine, no good doctors.”
His voice squeaked with despair and frustration
as he railed against what he called “enslaving debt,” “communist medicine,” and
a jack booted government.” As he stopped
to my destination, this refugee from a communist hell turned to me and said, “Please
do not let this happen to America. It’s
creeping in here. It’s creeping in
fast. We came to America to get away from
socialism. If it comes here, where will
we go? Where will any of us go? There’s no hope anywhere else. You’re letting your freedoms be taken from
you, and you don’t even see it. Or, you
see it and you don’t care. And that’s
the worst kind of treason.”
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