Years ago, I dreamed of growing
up a trust funder with unlimited family money,
because then I could adopt a leftist cause and chant
protest songs at environmental rallies when I wasn’t
skiing the Rockies or tanning on the Mexican Rivera.
With my family trust fund safely offshore in tax
free shelters, I could also be a public champion of
the poor and demand tax increases on the rich so as
to promise universal free stuff for the little
people. Unfortunately, I snapped back to reality
every time Dad started his pickup.
The ranch had an old, worn out, 1984 Toyota too
unreliable for ranch chores, but Dad rattled down
the county road in it for several years. Jiggling
around in the bed of the pickup was an old gin
bottle filled with gasoline Dad used to prime the
old girl to life. (Attention politically correct
readers: “Old girl” is a term of endearment
referring to the Toyota; Mom actually refused to
ride in the pickup.) Before turning the key, Dad
would pop the hood, wedge it open with an old
broomstick, unscrew the wing nut on the air breather
and pour a shot glass of gin down the carburetor. If
he quickly hopped in the cab and turned the key the
engine would roar. Dad was rarely quick.
Upon further reflection, I realized my only hope of
becoming independently wealthy was to earn it;
something the left teaches us is simply not fair.
Hence, I earned my veterinary degree, started a
family, opened my practice and enjoyed a great life
until 2006 when I accepted the argument it was my
obligation to enter public service. I tossed my hat
in the ring to represent House District 58 in the
Montana legislature and won by a whopping margin of
three votes. After my first term in Helena, I
learned my four month absence from my veterinary
practice proved politics was my second worst
business decision ever. Adding insult to injury,
last week I discovered my approach to politics was
all wrong too. Here is why.
Since March 2006 I have published 312 weekly
columns, plus my first book, exposing who I am, what
I think and what I am going to do. To stimulate
thought and debate, I expose readers to current
topics from a conservative, constitutional
perspective—something purposely vacant in
conventional media. Political experts advise against
this and instead recommended I abandon my
convictions, balance in the middle of the road, and
just smile and wave a lot. I just could not do
that—it made me feel like I was running for rodeo
queen. (Attention rabid leftists propagating e-mail
alerts: Even though they are both mentioned in the
same column, in no way am I comparing rodeo queens
to gin bottles rolling around in the back of an ’84
Toyota.)
Here is a recent example how polished politicians
handle a campaign. Last week, in South Korea,
unaware his microphone was live, President Obama
whispered to Russian President Medvedev, “On all
these issues, but particularly missile defense…give
me space. After my election I have more
flexibility.” Mr. Obama is truly a master at his
craft, but he makes me bang my head on the table.
Politicians lie and spread half truths because you
reward them for it. Upon further reflection I now
admit two things: I will never be a trust funder and
I simply refuse to be a politician.
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