Sent to me by another Patriots of Freedom member regarding bu$h in Texas:

Yes, you bet I'm one the Patriots of Freedom and any other group I can find who are fighting Bush. I lived in Texas for 30 years until I returned to live in New England, thank God. As the movers loaded all my stuff and my car on the moving van in Texas for the trip to MA, the incredible, unbelievable news was announced that Bush was our President. My God, we lived through the destruction of Texas when Bush was Governor. We knew Bush was lying when he claimed that every good piece of legislation that had been enacted in Texas was his. How on earth did this dolt become our president?,BR>
We lived on Galveston Bay, south of Houston, where the majority of the industrial districts and petrochemical factories are located. Bush deregulated these industries at the urging of (you guessed it), a small pipeline company called Enron, Bush allowed them to "self-govern" (sound familiar, like what he proposes for the entire country?), grandfathered ancient, heavily polluting facilities, then passed tort reform so that the men or families of men who were killed or maimed in the increasingly exploding factories and the increasingly frequent toxic emissions could get very little compensation when they filed suit against the corporations they worked for. Sound familiar?

Bush proposes tort reform for the entire country to protect the interests of his corporate cronies. The number of children who suffered from asthma increased dramatically. Bush instituted a ridiculous policy he called, "Shelter in Place". The accompanying cutesy barf-inducing logo pictured a smiling turtle pulling into his shell. Under this plan, people were told that when an alarm sounded warning of a toxic chemical release, they were to remain indoors wherever they were, to turn off their air-conditioners (have you any idea what it's like to spend just one hour in a house in Texas most of the year without air conditioning?), to tape up their windows and doors and to remain inside until the all-clear signal. Well, hell, what do you do about the fireplace opening, the area around the closed garage door, what if your pets and children are out of sight outdoors? What if your kids are in school and you're stuck at work? This happened to my daughter and me when the radio announced a toxic release. (Of course, like so many of Dubya's bright ideas, the warning system didn't work.)

Everyone in my office jumped to their feet with terrified looks on their faces, grabbed their phones and called their families. My daughter and I were at work at either end of town talking with one another on the phone frantic with worry that my grandson's school may not be aware that a toxic cloud was headed to his school because the alarm system hadn't worked. People were calling radio stations asking for information. Finally, the winds shifted and the toxic cloud was whisked over an industrial area and out to Galveston Bay where who knows how many people enjoying an afternoon of sailing on the Bay will later be diagnosed with cancer, lung problems, God knows what. Anyhow, we were already taking the long route to wherever we needed to go to avoid driving through industrial districts with factories that might explode or emit toxic fumes. We were used to the smelly air, the haze of pollution that dulled colors that pissed off gardeners because their flower gardens lost their brilliance of color in the haze. We had learned to never drive our cars with the windows open just in case whatever made the air smell bad was something that could make you sick. Now we had another thing to worry about: toxic emissions traveling on shifting winds.

The town we lived in mailed a letter to the residents advising them that senior citizens and pregnant or nursing women shouldn't drink city water and that the water should not be given to babies. That was scarey, but, because the water tasted so vile, most people had for a long time used bottled water (preferably water bottled anywhere but in Texas). Hell, we gave our PETS bottled water. The final straw was when more and more birds flying overhead began lurching and falling to the ground to die. I began taking Zoloft (damn that stuff is wonderful), told my children I was seriously pissed off at Bush, pissed off enough to return to New England, put in for retirement, called the movers, packed my stuff, loaded my cats on a plane and headed on out. Best thing I ever did in my life, except maybe for divorcing my husband. I'm very happy here when I'm not worrying about the little family I left behind in Toxic Texas. My first spring here was like returning to a technicolor paradise as the trees budded and leafed out, the grass greened up almost overnight, flowers opened and the world was filled with intense, deep, vibrant colors under a sky of a pure, clear deep blue. It was nearly breathtaking. This year I experienced my second New England spring. I don't think I'll ever tire of the excitement and color, newly appreciated after living in polluted, smelly, greyed-out Texas.

If Bush is allowed to remain in office as President, he will reduce the entire country to the level of misery and fear Texans must live with. Bush reduced the quality of life of Texans to that of the people who live in Mississippi or the quality of life endured by people who live in third-world countries, with one difference: no place on in this country is more polluted than Texas. By the way, I no longer take Zoloft. I don't need it anymore, although I've got a nice full bottle of the stuff stashed away in case Bush isn't impeached.

I enjoyed the company of a lot of intelligent, kind, delightful people in Texas. I miss them and their zany Texas sense of humor. I nearly forgot to mention the wealthy Texas oil man I dated for years who knew the Bush family and who told me the only one with any brains in the family is Barbara Bush. He winked at me and gave me a business memo signed by George W. Bush long before Bush announced he was running for President. At the time, I was so naive I didn't understand what the man was trying to tell me. I tossed the memo in a drawer someplace and forgot about it. Now I realize that he was a member of the inside crowd of Republican Texas oilmen who, even then, in the late 1970's, were planning and financing the rise of Dubya. He knew the memo he gave me would be valuable one day because he knew, even then, that Dubya would eventually be President of the US. Talk about long-term planning strategies! I can't remember the subject of the memo, but I've been digging into files, drawers, and stored junk searching for the damned thing.

I'm not computer literate unless my grandchildren are on hand. If you have the time and inclination, would you please post my rant on the AOL message board?

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