As a gun owner and hunter, I have trouble welcoming Hillary Clinton into the gun fraternity…or sorority in her case.
And, as a recovering alcoholic who used to toss down more than his share of shots, I have even more trouble imagining an evening at the local bar tossing back boilermakers with the Democratic Presidential pretender.
Yet claims of a hunting heritage and downing shots of Crown Royal and chasing it with a beer is part of Clinton’s latest attempt to prove she’s just one of us.
Hillary Clinton appealed to Second Amendment supporters on Saturday by hinting that she has some experience of her own pulling triggers.
“I disagree with Sen. Obama’s assertion that people in our country cling to guns and have certain attitudes about trade and immigration simply out of frustration,” she began, referring to the Obama comments on small-town Americans that set off a political tumult on Friday.
She then introduced a fond memory from her youth.
“You know, my dad took me out behind the cottage that my grandfather built on a little lake called Lake Winola outside of Scranton and taught be how to shoot when I was a little girl,” she said.
“You know, some people now continue to teach their children and their grandchildren. It’s part of culture. It’s part of a way of life. People enjoy hunting and shooting because it’s an important part of who they are. Not because they are bitter.”
Clinton stood by the bar and took a shot of Crown Royal whiskey. She took one sip of the shot, then another small sip, then a few seconds later threw her head back and finished off the whole thing.
Clinton later sat down at a table and enjoyed some pizza and beer, and called over Mayor Tom McDermott of Hammond, Ind., to come join the table.
“Every time I get around you we start drinking, senator,” the mayor exclaimed.
Clinton nodded and raised her glass.
“It’s Saturday night, though, Tom,” she said.
If Hillary Clinton is joining the ranks of gun owners in this country, it’s time to turn in our NRA cards and call Sarah Brady. If there’s even the slightest chance of running into her at the local pub I’m headed for the nearest AA meeting.
All this pathetic political pandering, of course, is just another attempt by shrill Hill to prove she is just one of us. It is even more laughable than Barack Obama’s lame attempt to become a bowler. When political candidates try to prove they are just plain folks they come across as just plain fools.
Memo to one and all: You ain’t one of us so drop the charade. We’re not looking for one of us. We’re looking for a leader.
Bowling a 37 while wearing a white shirt and tie or tossing back a few with politicos at a bar don’t mean dick.
This so-called Presidential campaign has descended into a sideshow of photo ops, meaningless diversions and comedy skits so removed from reality that the sketches on Saturday Night Live seem more real than what’s happening out on the stump.
Besides, if the phone rings at the White House at 3 a.m. and the President is spreadeagled across the bed, passed out in an alcohol-induced stupor, no one is available to answer the phone.