Romney’s Top 10 Reasons He Dropped Out of Presidential Race

No. 10: There weren’t as many Osmonds as he thought.

No. 9: Got tired of the corkscrew landings of his campaign plane while under fire.

No. 8: As a lifelong hunter, I didn’t want to miss the start of varmint season.

No. 7: There wasn’t room for two Christian leaders in the presidential race.

No. 6: I was upset that no one bothered to search my passport files.

No. 5: I’d rather get fat, grow a beard and try for the Nobel prize.

No. 4: When my wife realized I couldn’t win the GOP nomination, my fundraising dried up.

No. 3: Got tired of wearing a dark suit and tie, and I wanted to kick back in a light colored suit and tie.

No. 2: I took a bad fall at a campaign rally and broke my hair.

And the No. 1 reason Romney dropped out: His campaign relied on a flawed campaign strategy that as Utah goes, so goes the nation.

Home is Where Again?

My mom and I saw my youngest brother off at the airport this morning. It had been a long time between visits (where does the time go?) and mom was very affected by her baby leaving.

“I told Steve that when Bob (stepdad, who has end-stage COPD) dies, I’m going to move up there near him.”

I looked over at her in surprise. “Uh, you HATE the cold and ice. You have Raynaud’s, and your hands and feet get all purply in the cold.”

“But I can’t stand the heat, either, anymore, and we have 9 months of it!”

“You can turn the A/C on and drive to the store in your car. You have more like 9 months of winter there. You really want to drive around in the ice and snow?”

“Well, I just can’t keep the place up. I might only have a couple of years left before it gets to be too much for me.”

“What’s to keep up? A coat of paint every couple of years? I can do that!” (If she would mention to me that she wanted it done, which she hasn’t.)

“There’s your middle brother, too. I don’t think he’ll ever have a place of his own.  I can go up there, buy a place, and we’ll live together.  It will give him a home.”

I was glad I wasn’t drinking anything so I didn’t snort it out my nose.  My mom is a super Baptist.  She prays loud and long at every meal.  She has bible readings (aloud).  The brother that she is concerned about, the one we (she and I) haven’t seen in years, is a genuinely nice and gentle guy. He’s a carpenter and (very accomplished) tattoo artist.  He has friends in (very) low places.  He is no stranger to illicit substances and is a practicing alcoholic.  I love him to death, but……I just don’t see it happening.  Oh, mercy.  I’d kinda like to be there, though, when she prayed for the souls of him and all of his buddies.  Road trip?

I suggested to her that maybe, just maybe, before she went and put the (paid for) house on the market, she might want to fly up in the winter and give it a trial run for a month or so.  Just in case.

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