Mood:  crushed out

Joe Willie Namath in an interview for PLAYBOY was once asked for his feminine preferences.  He answered "Southern girls," thereby ensuring the undying enmity of the Beach Boys and Farrah Fawcett ("See Joe Namath get creamed").  Frodo, on the other hand, has always been entranced by feminine warriors, and Rheta Grimsley Johnson is very high on his wish list.

Frodo first encountered her words in the ATLANTA JOURNAL-CONSTITUTION when he found himself reading everything she wrote.  He grew personally empathic with her tales of a young marriage on St. Simons Island that fostered through the struggles of the first years together, then collapsed as success took the partners further apart.  Her return to the city too busy to hate, and her continuing presence on the newspaper built by Ralph McGill only whetted her appetite for the life she really desired.  Eventually, she bought a cabin in the woods of Mississippi and started walking trails that had always been there, if only to wait for the prodigal to return.  Words would follow.

Frodo remembers most a column she wrote about a young naturalist who had been stricken with terminal cancer.  She captured his words and his gentle nature as he took every possible remaining moment and hiked along muddy streams and quiet forests.  In such great pain that he was often unable to put one foot in front of another, he would stop long enough to admire one more flower.  Frodo never knew the boy, but he cried that day, and later on when the young man's spirit carried him on to a high road.

It was a pleasant moment when Frodo noted the name of Rheta Grimsley Johnson in the Opinion Section of today's AJC.  Entitled "Nobel Critics Are Far From Noble," she wrote ". . . Maybe there is at least some hope for world peace now that the United States of America has managed to elect a president with an IQ larger than his hat size who is willing to engage in open-minded discussion before rattling sabers, a man who will work with the United Nations instead of undermining it, a fellow whose eloquence and idealism could be used to work for good . . . Perhaps the Nobel Prize people were saying that this is the time and the opportunity and personality to aim for a better way in a nuclear age.  And if that's not what a Peace Prize is all about, it ought to be."

Frodo has some very impressive friends in Mississippi (nearly all of whom, strangely enough, happen to be women), and many of them follow his words.  He asks that if any of them should be out, mint julep in hand, taking in the final blossoms on this year's magnolia, and they happen upon the talented Ms. Grimsley Johnson, please ask her to sit a spell, and let her know that she has a fan who just happens to be a Hobbit.

In the future, Frodo will chronicle his on-going admiration for Cynthia Tucker, from the hometown of Harper Lee (and the location of the only monument ever dedicated to the boll weevil). 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:56 PM EDT

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Mood:  chatty

Alfred Hitchcock used to begin his television stories with a visual teaser.  Coupled with Hitchcock's surreptitious presence for a passing cameo in every show, Frodo often found himself concentrating on the subtle as opposed to the substance.  In a way, the Hobbit does much the same.

The Men of Gondor come together on the second Friday of every month.  The concept began with an entrepreneur who noticed that a lot of men devoted more and more of their time to work, family, church, more work, more family, and more church.  The things that guys shared, in the locker room for example, disappeared from their lives with age and responsibility.  What this gentleman devised was a business whereby he would gather groups of men together, and set them on a course of meetings and activities.  He charged them each a fee at the first meeting, set the organizational ground rules, then he disappeared in favor of finding another grouping.

The activities generally began with discussions about life experiences and interests.  Over time the meetings became field trips to museums, homeless shelters, wastewater treatment plants, or whitewater rafting, horseback riding, or an occasional afternoon hike.  Nearly all of the groups would dissolve after two or three years, but not so the Men of Gondor.  There have been instances when things almost came unglued however, and Frodo was deeply involved in the most serious.

Frodo once promised himself that he would read at least one book by everybody.  This was not the brightest of the goals he ever set for himself.  It not only required him to go back and track down Victor Hugo (Frodo argued that having seen "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" on the black-and-white was enough), but it meant that he could not read six or seven books by a particularly prolific author that he happened to like a whole lot.  Frodo suggested to the Men of Gondor that having one meeting a year dedicated to reading a book in common would be both a mental exercise, and a good way to politely argue over something less volatile than abortion rights or gun control.  One, now former, member took particular exception to Frodo's suggestion, and it became clear that one, or both, would have to go in a different direction.

One book reading turned out to be enough.  This past week however, something happened that rekindled the spirits of all the Men of Gondor, even moreso than the annual bell-ringing for the Salvation Army at Christmas.  While lunching before touring the Carter Center, and actually seeing a Nobel Peace Prize, the discussion came to travel, and neat places visited.  Frodo got around to one of his favorites, "Travels with Charly," the delightful tale by John Steinbeck about his drive encircling the United States with a blue-dog poodle, who went "Pffft" rather than "Bark."  The places, and the times they had, caught the boy in all the Men of Gondor.

Before lunch ended, and before the tour commenced, they agreed to read the John Grisham book, "Playing for Pizza."  The story of a former college football star, whose NFL career was jeopardized by extracurricular activities, and who found himself in a small-town club footbal league in Italy.  Unable to drive a stick-shift for example, learning to parallel park all over again was almost as funny as the offensive lineman who was actually a mob enforcer.  Small crowds, who understood very little about the game of American football, and ever-present "groupies" added immensely to the adventures of the protagonist.

Sometimes old dogs just need to talk about how they got to be old dogs.

Arf. 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:55 PM EDT

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Mood:  irritated

Frodo had every intention of spending a few moments tonight lampooning the performance of Somali pirates who mistakenly assaulted a French warship ("Mr. Christian, Mr. Christian. . ."), or he was going to munch on a chewie in honor of that Australian Water Dog (whatever?) residing  at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue whose first birthday was today.  But NO, for here comes Lisa, the Howler Monkey, and her secret lover, Michael Steele, Nimrod of the Republicants, leading some sort of defense of the sanctity of Jimmy Carter's Nobel Prize.  Frodo almost corresponded directly with these simians in order to get some definition of their mental masturbation, but concluded that he had neither the patience nor the inclination to draw himself away from the ALDS game starting in a few moments (that's baseball acronym jargon which would take far too long to explain to either the uninitiated or to Lisa, the Howler Monkey).

Recent readers of Frodo's digital creations will note Frodo's commentaries on the Presidential performance of Barack Obama at the United Nations.  Frodo told all that they were present at the birth of the "Obama Doctrine," and that multilateral action would replace the unilateral scuffles which have seemingly brought all of Middle Earth to the brink of Mount Doom.  Given the very ground rules of the Noble Commission, which recognize the actions of those who bring contributions to all who inhabit our small, blue planet, how could any rational being object to a nomination in behalf of one who orchestrated an international ass-kicking of Iran and its imbecilic government?  

This is the same guy that, personally, accumulated a 15-0 vote of the Security Council to bring a halt to nuclear weapons proliferation.  When, Frodo asks, has there last been a vote of 15-0 by the Security Council on anything, including deciding on what time to break for lunch?  Who, Frodo asks, in their right mind, could legitimately argue that he hasn't done anything?  Need Frodo go further in order to expand upon his disdain for Lisa, the Howler Monkey, and her gang of refugees from Animal Farm (that's a book Lisa, you know one of those things with binding and words inside).

Barack Hussein Obama, President of the United States of America, is bringing the world together to deal with the issues of our time, and that, in and of itself, is a damn good reason for him to get a pretty keen award, and $1.4 Million to donate to charity.  It is what the Noble Peace Prize is all about.  You da man. 

Before Frodo seeks solace in the vestiges of Abner Doubleday, he felt it important to note that it is true that Obama was nominated for the award within 11 days of his Inauguration.  What we don't know is who nominated him.  Nominations can come from literally hundreds of individuals around the world, and the nominating process does not end on the date the nomination is received.  Those who voted the award to President Obama, in Frodo's opinion, did a good job.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:37 PM EDT

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Mood:  special

If there were truly an award known as an "Attaboy," Frodo would be pleased to stand at the podium of choice and award one to Ms. Katie Courick and the staff of the CBS EVENING NEWS.  The network used the entire broadcast of the evening news on both Monday and Tuesday, as well as nearly all of Wednesday, to analyze and explain the situational War in Afghanistan as it commences its ninth year.  That's right sports fans, the entire show was dedicated to one single, complex, story, and there was no mention of David Letterman, Tea Parties, or Max Baucus.  Frodo and Sam were riveted, in much the same way as they were a lifetime ago when Walter Cronkite held the public trust.

The appropriate web location of the CBS EVENING NEWS allows everyone to access the broadcast, and to draw their own conclusions from the brilliantly assembled presentation.  Frodo recommends that everyone who loves this country, and who wants to hear factual, professional reporting take advantage of the opportunity.

Frodo has cast many stones at Ms. Courick.  He felt that her appointment to the anchor chair was a debacle, and he laughed out loud as she sprawled all over the set in order to offer a more relaxed atmosphere to the serious news of the day.  She gained a measure of his respect by her dogged pursuit of the true Sarah Palin, but it has been in the days since the 2008 Election that she has blossomed, if you will, into "simply the best, better than all the rest."

Dear reader knows that Frodo is deeply concerned by the status of the Afghan War.  The in-depth strategic discussions by the Obama "War Council" are a necessary step in safe passage on the road that takes us out of that place.  Knowing the facts, and appreciating the depth of the dilemma, is something that we, as a nation, have not experienced for a long, long time.

Thank you Ms. Courick.  Attaboy! 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:55 PM EDT

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Mood:  accident prone

The telephone rang during dinner-time, making the caller almost as welcome as a flatulent crewman on a submarine.  When Sam played the recorder back some hours later, the message conveyed a communication from "The Power Company" via the conveniently dubbed "Robo Call."   The very helpful voice thus embedded in the technological firewalls at the Shire explained that a service disruption would commence at 11:30 PM on the First of October, and continue until 5:30 AM on the Second.  Further, the message explained, it was necessary because the Transformer serving the local area needed repairs.  Now Frodo is well-aware that all the cables servicing the Shire and its environs are underground, but he also knew that frequent power outages were due to lightning strikes upon said Transformer.  In truth, said Transformer seems to attract nature's assaults, and Frodo was thus pleased that the "Power Company" was taking such initiative.  Perhaps Government is not "the problem," but is actually sometimes pretty darn efficient.

The day before the service outage was to occur, Sam happened to be discussing the matter with a few of the neighbors, including Tom Bombadil.  Surprisingly, none of the neighbors were aware of the scheduled power outage.  Sam gave each of them the details, and then proceeded to prepare the candles and flashlights which would guide the inhabitants of the Shire back-and-forth to the facilities during periods of unquenchable darkness.

The morning after, both Sam & Frodo noted that there had been no apparent power outage at all (mainly because all of the accursed flashing digital clocks in the Shire continued to operate without signaling such an occurrence).  Tom Bombadil stopped by and spoke with Sam, after Frodo had departed for Mount Doom, inquiring about the absence of any power outage in his abode.  When Sam pled ignorance, Tom wandered off, in a muttering huff.

That afternoon, Frodo & Sam took Fiona and Mick, the Wonder Dog, in the motorcar in order to weekend at Lake Lovey.  Upon their arrival, Frodo noted a sign at the gate, reminding residents of the planned power outage, which had indeed taken place the previous morning.  Frodo & Sam laughed over the fact that the "Robo Call" had come to their residence at the Shire, warning of the power outage which was actually at Lake Lovey.  Frodo promised he would seek out Tom Bombadil upon returning to the Shire, and laugh with him over the unfortuante FUBAR.

Tom wasted little time when he noted the return of Frodo's motorcar to the Shire.  Before Frodo could get a word in edgewise, Tom began a recitation about his telephone call to the "Power Company," and his subsequent cold blast thrown to the management of the local utility.  In fact, reported Tom, the flustered supervisors, initially denying that any such plan even existed, were so embarrassed by Tom's assertions of insensitive incompetence that they agreed to rectify the situation and to oversee such action on the Transformer this coming Thursday. 

Frodo was somewhat surprised.  He also decided not to add any additional confusion to the file.

As he thought about it later, Frodo internally justified his silence by pointing out that certainly some sort of technological update had been planned for the Transformer, and all that took place because of Tom's complaint was a hastening of the work schedule.  It does however, offer counsel to those who complain about dealing with bureaucracy.  It shows that all you have to do is catch them off-guard.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:12 PM EDT

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Mood:  on fire

Nineteen years ago, when he was 15 years old, and living in the State of Florida, William Hawkins had sex with a 12 year-old girl.  He served two years of house arrest, and 10 years on probation.  After relocating to Cobb County, Georgia, Hawkins learned that he was required to register with the County as a Sex Offender.  Failure to do so in a timely manner resulted in a full year in jail.  During that period of time, his wife of five years had relocated to Virginia.  When he was released from jail, he was again placed on probation, and informed that the terms of his probation required him to remain in Cobb County.  William Hawkins officially became homeless.

In Georgia, it is against the law for any "Registered Sex Offender" to live, work, or loiter within 1,000 feet of schools, churches, child care facilities and other areas where children gather.  Upon his release from jail, his Probation Officer handed him a piece of paper with the address of an office park in Cobb County and told him that a congregation of homeless sex offenders were encamped in the woods nearby.  It is, arguably, the only location in the entire County that meets the requirements of the State Law.  The land is the property of the Georgia Department of Transportation.  Mr. Hawkins purchased a tent, and moved in, desperate to meet the continuing terms of his probation.

Mark McKinnon, a "spokesman" for the Georgia DOT, today announced that the homeless sex offenders must vacate the premises by Tuesday.  McKinnon stated, "We don't want to allow anyone to live on our property for liability issues."  Mr. Hawkins has no place to go that will keep him from technically violating the terms of his probation.

Roman Polanski, at age 43, took advantage of, and raped, a 13 year-old girl, 31 years ago.  After pleading guilty to having sex with a minor, he fled the United States in 1978, and continued his career from his residence in France.  During the trial, it was substantiated that Polanski persuaded the child to take off her clothes with a ruse about a photo shoot for a magazine.  Plying her with champagne, he then sodomized her, among other acts.  The child told the police that she had told him to stop, but she did not forcibly resist because she was afraid of Polaanski.

The prosecutors in the Polanski Trial agreed to a plea bargain that would have kept Polanski in jail for 42 days.  Polanski failed to appear for sentencing because he was afraid that the Judge might not honor that agreement, and so he fled the country.  He was recently arrested by Swiss authorities, and is presently fighting extradition.  A plethora of "enlightened artists", including Debra Winger, have argued on behalf of Polanski.

Frodo argues for William Hawkins. 

Frodo respectfully suggests that Roman Polanski be brought to Cobb County, Georgia, for adjudication.  He might want to bring a tent, and a map.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:15 PM EDT

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Mood:  sharp

Frodo remembers the unease upon the countenance of the Governor of Alaska as she attempted to respond to Charlie Gibson of ABC News.  She had absolutely no idea what the "Bush Doctrine" was, and it was unlikely that very many of the tuned-in viewers could have handled the question flawlessly.  What bothered Frodo was that the reaction would have been identical had Gibson referred to the "Monroe Doctrine."  It is a rare moment, indeed, when many Americans can discuss strategy, much less spell it, or pronounce it correctly.

On Saturday, September 26, 2009, President Barack Obama coupled the words which follow.

"My administration has renewed American leadership, and pursued a new era of engagement in which we call upon all nations to live up to their responsibilities. . .We achieved. . . a new commitment to meet common challenges, and real progress in advancing America's national security and economic prosperity."

The "Obama Doctrine," so dubbed by Frodo, is an affirmation of joint responsibility and obligation by the civilized nations of the world in order to cope with unstable governments or unsophisticated leadership.  There is a general recognition that threats may arise from a variety of sources, and that a united response is both diplomatically and militarily desirable.  Unilateral action by any nation, weak or strong, lessens the possibility for peaceful resolution of situations with increasing potential impact on all the peoples of the world.

Briefly, the President indicated his resolve to work with other powerful nations of the world, rather than to act unilaterally, by stopping the implementation of a missile defense shield in Eastern Europe.  The Russians responded by casting a vote, rather than a characteristic Soviet Era veto, with the entire Security Council of the United Nations, making the vote 15-0, in advocating an end to nuclear weapons proliferation.  The Chinese joined in support of the proposal initiated by the current Chair of the Security Council, The United States of America.  Noteworthy was the fact that Barack Obama, personally, chaired the meeting.

The United States followed this action with a public announcement of the existence of a nuclear facility in Iran, which the Iranian President had neglected to mention, and averred that this was a serious flaunting of the agreements for inspection by all signatories to the UN Charter.  The Iranians, in anticipation of this announcement attempted to comply both verbally, and in writing.  The President of the United States, joined at the podium by the Prime Minister of Great Britain, and the President of France, threatened the Iranian Government with consequences that were openly supported by the German Prime Minister, and by the absence of any objections from either Russia or China.

In effect, these nations of the world all turned their missiles in the same direction.

At the same time, the wildcard, Israel, found itself in the position of being put on notice that it would be very unwise for their government to act unilaterally.  Despite their perceptions of threat, the Israelis were being advised that an assault on Israeli sovereignty would not occur with impunity.  Interestingly, during a number of televised interviews Mr. Netanjahu emphasized, and re-emphasized, that "high-level" contact with the Obama Administration took place weekly.  The message had been received.

The forum provided by the United Nations allowed the part and parcel of the American international political strategy to be introduced to all the nations of the world, as well as to demonstrate its potential for dealing with conflict resolution. 

Frodo can't help but be reminded of Dumas, and those in his great novel who crossed their swords, and proclaimed "One for All, and All for One." 

You were there, at the birth of the Obama Doctrine.  For those of you so inclined, Frodo would have no objection with anyone forwarding this piece to the former Governor of Alaska (Just tell her it is an article in the latest edition of "Sports Illustrated").      

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:09 PM EDT

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Mood:  down

Sam's late father, the gallant Howard, was always giving gifts to Frodo.  One year, a long, long time ago, at Christmas, he gave Frodo a bag of chestnuts.  Frodo probably thought of at least 247,655 other things he would rather have received as a gift, but he accepted them in the spirit of the Season.  Upon his return to the Shire, Frodo placed the chestnuts into the vegetable bin of his ice box, and promptly forgot about them.

Sometime into the New Year, Sam asked Frodo what he intended to do with the plastic bag filled with chestnuts in the ice box.  Wisely interpreting that as a signal for action, Frodo commenced to shovel the chestnuts into the garbage pail, but not before noting that there were sprouts growing from several of the subjects in the bounty before him.  Despite the time of the year, Frodo dug three holes in various locations about the Shire, and placed a single chestnut into each hole.  He thought no more of those acts for the remainder of the football and basketball seasons.

The chestnuts were, due to the horrible blight which devastated the American Chestnut population in the Appalachian region several decades ago, English Chestnuts.  Frodo, frankly, understood not the difference, but he assumed that, not unlike most Englishmen he had ever met, the English Chestnuts were either gay and or unintelligible.

Sometime in the Spring that followed, Frodo noted the very beginnings of trees emanating in the areas where he had planted the English Chestnuts months before.  This event probably proved that these English Chestnuts were probably only unintelligble.  Growth was steady and attractive annually, and eventually the spreading Chestnut trees took on a rather poetic stance in the Gardens of the Shire.  Beauty however, is a quality which may be much less an asset than first glances may imply.

The first chestnut to fall from the largest of the three trees was not the last.   The number grew so large that every squirrel within all the lands of Middle Earth became familiar with the extra-terrestrial skyways leading to the Gardens of the Shire.  Frodo was, at first, pleased that the squirrels would haul the entire product away for squirrel purposes.  Unfortunately, the squirrels soon discovered that it was a better idea to break the hob-nailed outer covering of each and every chestnut before attempting to store the bounty for Winter consumption.  The result being that Frodo's Gardens, his driveway, the roof of his house, and the front yards of all his neighbors were covered in the hob-nailed byproduct of the English Chestnuts for weeks on end.  It is during these times that Frodo's neighbors stop speaking to him.  Fiona and Mick, the Wonder Dog, play upon Frodo's sympathies by limping or holding a paw in the air, signalling the presence of something which only Frodo can extricate in their behalf.

At this moment, trees one and two are pretty well emptied of their baneful booty.  Tree number three is attempting to set a new world record.  Frodo's Saturday, assuming that torrential rains pass without consequence, will be devoted to the cleansing of the Shire of all the chestnut byproducts.  Despite heavy gloves, and tools designed to minimize bending and stooping, Frodo will be much the worse for wear when this hour arrives on the morrow.

Frodo no longer accepts Christmas gifts which require nutrition.  Whatever eats, also passes chestnuts.  Somehow, he thinks he now understands why the gallant Howard gave him those chestnuts in the first place. 

Someday dear reader, should you motor past a picturesque old cemetery in eastern Tennessee with a lonely chestnut tree standing all alone amid the morning dew, know that the gallant Howard got a proper marker.   That is an American Chestnut, probably the only one in the entire bag.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:59 PM EDT

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Mood:  d'oh

Frodo reports that he came to a complete stop while perusing the Business Section of the Shire Daily News.  Knowing that more than 80 banks have failed so far in this calendar year, Frodo was quietly scanning the list in order to orient himself to the depths of the dilemma.  To find the name of "The First National Bank of Beverly Hills" was almost too much for the Hobbit to absorb, especially since he was intimately aware of the identity of the institution's largest depositor.  As do you, dear reader.

"Well, the first thing ya know, old Jed's a millionaire.  The kin folks said 'Jed, move away from there.'  Said 'Californy is the place ya oughtta be!', so they loaded up the truck and they moved to Beverly.  Hills, that is.  Swiimin' pools, Movie stars. . ."

Mr. Drysdale must be crushed, to know that under his leadership, loyal Miss Hathaway (who had the serious 'hots' for Jethro) has lost her job.  What's more, since the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC, to you acronym freaks) only insures individual depositor accounts to $250K (that's thousands, in economics speak), the Clampetts have lost nearly all of the wealth they entrusted to the First National Bank of Beverly Hills on the day that they arrived, fresh from their oil strike in Arkansas.

Although their Beverly Hills mansion, sitting in front of the "cement pond," was purchased with cash, it is unlikely that the remainder of the Clampett fortune will long survive property taxes in cash-poor California.  The "For Sale" sign in the front yard distresses both Granny and Elly Mae, but it will make the drive back home to Arkansas downright onerous for Jed.  Everybody knows that he'll take a big loss on the sale of the mansion, under these circumstances, so the question begs if there will be sufficient assets to even buy back the old family home in Arkansas?

Frodo opines that the American Spirit presupposes the possibility that Jed will one day again be huntin' possum, and a repeatedly errant shot will open yet another petroleum production platform in America's Heartland.  The bad news being that oil consumption, and prices, are dropping steadily.  In Georgia, according to Frodo, we know a lot about how much it pours when it rains. 

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:34 PM EDT

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Mood:  caffeinated

Frodo enjoys an injection of humor into serious issues and events.  Rare it is that the Hobbit retreats to the totally theoretical in order to postulate, especially when there is little of scientific fact to support his assertions.  It is far too easy to portray oneself as analtically omnipotent or insightful, and since, in this instance particularly, Frodo is pulling his thoughts out of his own instinctive butt, it deserves a prologue such as this.

"It is not about Russia."

Taken entirely out of context from the repetitive recitations of President Obama on wall-to-wall projections from the black-and-white world of television journalism this day, these words say a great deal about the extremely effective state of strategic foreign policy thought in America today.  Frodo believes that the decision by the Obama Administration to re-structure the missile defense system proposed by previous purveyors of American Foreign Policy is a creative step toward a more peaceful world.  No longer will civilized nation-states draw "lines in the sand" in each others' faces, rather they create a joint capacity to deter the uncivilized non-nation-states of the world from future acts of barbarism. 

In effect, argues Frodo, the Russians, the Americans, and all of the NATO allies are now capable of defending Israel against the potential nuclear threat of Iran.  Note that the Russians labeled Ahmadinejad's latest denial of the Holocaust as words which deny fact.  At the same time, the flexibility of mobile defense systems means that civilized peoples can act in tandem to prevent acts of terror against any one of them.  No longer does the United States stand as the "world's policeman."  It is as if we have melded defensive capabilities in order to make it clear to the Vandals, the Visigoths, and the Huns that we will act WITH the Russians, and they will act with us, in order to prosper civilization on our, jointly-owned, small blue planet.  

There is no need for a line of missiles in Poland or the Czech Republic, pointed toward Russia, to stand and gather dust for the next millenium.  There is however, a very great need for religious zealots to take note of their potentially imminent transit to Valhalla, the Land of 97 Virgins, or whatever they call the next world, which can be dispatched from any of the allied civilized societies.

Frodo believes that this is the product of good and wise men and women, who have seen War, and are doing their best to prevent the next one.  On a day when the questions were about other aspects of public and foreign policy, it is, in Frodo's mind, important to take note of the fact that the joint threat has produced joint responsibility and cooperation.  

Perhaps it is Frodo's wishful thinking, but this night, in this place, he truly believes that great steps have been taken to bring the white dove home, and to let her sleep, peacefully, in the sand. 

How is that for "hope" and "change"?   

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:40 PM EDT

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