Biden, Boats, and Backpacks

There’s a story that’s been passed around the Senate about a Catholic bishop who wants to deny communion to all Democrats, due to their party’s embrace of abortion rights.

“We need to take action, beginning with Joe Biden,” the bishop says.

“Why Biden?” answers one of his colleagues.

“Because he’s the only one who would care,” the bishop responds.

Joe Biden is a genuinely religious man, a solid Catholic who opposes partial-birth abortion and meanders into pro-life territory every once in awhile. He’s a leftie, but he’s not a loon. He’s a serious, intelligent lawmaker who brings plenty of heft to Obama’s ticket. Conservatives who cackle with glee over his many gaffes – calling Obama “clean,” plagiarizing Neil Kinnock, mocking Indians working in convenience stores – are missing the point. Biden has been in the fray for forty years, and he’s thrived under pressure. He’s everything Obama isn’t – including being somewhat reasonable.

I think this improves Barack’s chances of being elected. It also improves Mitt’s chances of getting on McCain’s ticket, too.

Intrade now has Mitt as VP trading about thirty points ahead of everyone else. Where Biden brings a tremendous amount of foreign policy credentials to the Dems, Mitt becomes the economic guru the GOP is looking for. Biden fills in Obama’s gaps, and Mitt could do the same for Beavis. The only drawback – and it’s considerable – is Mitt’s Mormon faith. I’m not the one to gauge just how big a deal that is, as I woefully underestimated this issue when Satan’s Brother used it to knock Mitt out of the race.

I plan on ignoring the convention for the most part, much as I ignored the Biden announcement, which came as I was camping with the fam up at Bear Lake on the Utah/Idaho border. It was a good time, except when I went to pick up a rented boat and couldn’t get it up to more than 10 miles per hour without nearly capsizing it in the massive early morning waves. I also picked up the boat while wearing jeans, thinking I would step onto the boat from some kind of pier. Instead, I had to wade out into the water in denim and sit in moist clothing for over an hour.

I was less than pleased.

The two kids who came with me – my son Corbin and a friend from another family – learned a few interesting words that morning. The friend later asked my other children whether or not I was a Mormon, since she had never heard a Mormon use such colorful metaphors.

I may have scarred both of them for life, but such is the way of things. Today is the first day of school for the Cornell clan, and they awoke and dressed and got lunches made and, with backpacks firmly in place, sallied forth out the door. Cleta is now in 6th grade; Chloe is in 4th; Corbin and Cornelius are starting grade #2, and Stalliondo begins preschool next week.

I would say it reminds me of that ABBA song “Slipping Through My Fingers,” but then everyone would accuse me of being gay.