ON OR OFF THE FENCE?

I have been accused on the “other” blog of no longer being “on the fence” with regard to Dave Israel and his administration and given several questions to answer to Olga Wolkenstein’s satisfaction. A few comments…..

1. “On the fence,” to begin with, is purely an Olga assertion. I have never said it of myself. I have made no secret of my liking Dave or of being on the committee to reelect him this year and two years ago.

2. However, even for the moment assuming Olga’s charge of my being “on the fence” to be true, it was THIS that got me branded as a bigoted cockroach on their blog! (Granted I was No. 9 on the list, but, to put it in golf parlance, I made the cut!) Now any self-respecting cockroach on the fence about to get swatted would get off, and quickly, don’t you think? Sorry, Olga, I landed in Dave’s camp!

3. But to be serious, the point of having an open mind is to gather what information we can about a thing. To do this, we rely on all kinds of sources because there is very little most of us know firsthand. Sensible people “grade” their sources. If they find through experience that certain sources exaggerate, say stuff they don’t know, stretch the truth, mislead, or even outright lie, they give these sources less and less credence until finally there comes a day when they give these sources NO credence. Does this mean that everything these sources say is untrue? Of course not. It only means these sources have forfeited the consideration they were previously afforded because they cannot be trusted. We have only so much time in this world, and it makes no sense to try to track everything down that unreliable sources say or charge people with. And that is the situation I am in with regard to a vocal few in the “other” camp.

4. A few months ago Olga asked me several questions on their blog, and I answered them. The result was that Eduardo had a fit and took Olga to task (on their blog) for giving me a platform to state Dave’s many accomplishments! What did you expect of Hitler’s mother to say about her son? he said, metaphorically speaking. That had me rolling in the aisles. (I don’t mind Eduardo saying this metaphorically, by the way. He and I both like steamed clams and the Red Sox.) But another “Twenty Questions” to answer for Olga—with the promise of more where they came from?! I don’t think so, Olga. Sorry, but I am bowing out of your game.

In conclusion, my poem. Call it “Ode to Olga” if you want:

Olga, Olga

Olga, Olga, the woman never ceases

To engender strife.

With all of her invective,

When will she get a life?

She’s got it in for certain folk,

That’s pretty easily seen.

In the Reporter, on the Blog,

Watch out for Wolkenstein!

When Olga goes up to the mike

At the delegates meeting,

You know you are not going to get

A friendly morning greeting.

Finger pointing, charges fly,

“But, but,” you politely stammer.

It’s hard to know the best defense

When Olga lowers the hammer.

She’s like the neighborhood pit bull

Once she gets her teeth in you.

She chews you up and spits you out;

Those who’ve escaped are few.

Whether her prey is guilty

Matters little, I’ve a hunch.

Her modus operandi

Is to have someone for lunch.

Oh, Olga, Olga, don’t you ever

Tire of such a life?

And wish for peace and harmony,

Instead of constant strife?