I've got two wonderful daughters. One calls me every day. The other one, if she's busy, doesn't call me for a week and forgets to return my calls. It's okay, I'm not insecure. I know she loves me.
But when she doesn't call for awhile, and I can't roust her up, I get a little bit nervous and start trolling.
That's how I found out that my daughter The Heir and her significant other had signed on to a rally that is not going to be warm and fuzzy in Philadelphia.
Some fascist Trump supporters have decided to hold a get-together at Independence Hall. This has not passed the attention of Antifa and another group called Pushback. Daughter and s.o. had announced intentions to join the action with Pushback.
If you have been a regular grazer on this pasture for awhile, you know I've been rattling my saber all along from the safety and security of my Barca-lounger. But the moment arises when it feels pretty hypocritical to sit and suggest what we ought to do.
Readers, I will stand with Antifa on Saturday. In Philadelphia, where (one member of the gendarmes told me) precisely 50 percent of the cops love Trump, and 50 percent hate him.
I'll be making noise to drown out "Proud Boys" who claim they aren't racist and they don't want racists at their rally. Frankly I don't care what they are claiming. They need to know that in the city of Philadelphia, their hate won't fly.
When I started this blue blog back in 2005, it was all making fun of Dubya and the Christian "chippies" and their Armageddon agenda. Now this shit is serious. I'm not strolling into Center City on Saturday expecting to be surrounded by gentle grandmothers in pussy hats. This will be the hardcore opposition. And I will be part of it.
I'm 59 years old with bad knees and a pathological fear of confrontation. But if my beloved Heir has the guts to go, then I've got to be there too.
Plenty of good Germans sat back and clucked their tongues while the Nazis gained strength. That's not going to happen here on my watch.
At dawn we ride.