Chronia Polla!

We used to have one of those supernifty yellow ribbon "Support Our Troops" magnets on the back of the truck, and now, there is a clean spot in the dust on the tailgate where the magnet used to be. Yep. Gotta wash my truck, I know, but it's a little dry in this area right now. Maybe it'll rain heavy one of these nights, and I'll go out in the driveway and soap it up.

Out for dinner the other night, in a parking lot, saw a bumper sticker with a similar yellow ribbon, with a big red circle around it and a slash through it.

You've GOT to be a special kind of stupid to sport that. Support the troops, for crying out loud. So, being a soldier's daughter, I called my dad immediately to tell him I love him and was thinking of him and that I was willing to find that car again and tell the driver what up.

"No," Dad reminded me. "He's entitled to his opinion. Even if he's a jackass. This is America."

My dad is sooo levelheaded. And I am soooo not.

When I was madmadMAD at my biological father when I was little, he would tell me, "It's okay to be angry right now, but don't close the door."