The current political season has intensified my love for a country that is revered by some and reviled by others. I can not be convinced, even amid the drumbeat of “change”, that America no longer is a shining city on a hill.

Our nation certainly is not invulnerable to internal conflict, as we learned so painfully in the mid-19th century. It is not immune to catastrophic economic downturns (1930s), or to severe economic bubbles (1907, 2008). It is not always on guard when enemies visit (1941, 2001).

The strength of this union will be tested again on Tuesday on an election day that is historic by any measure.

Sen. Barack Obama’s candidacy for President represents a serious crossroads for the United States. If he is elected, the power Obama will inherit and how he wields it poses a serious, long term threat to the economic and physical security of our nation.

Opposition to Obama has drawn sharp criticism. Predictably, many left wings citizens, and neighbors, assume that concern voiced openly about Obama’s candidacy equates to racism. This illogical leap was, sadly, inevitable.

I am not, to quote comedian Dennis Miller, worried about the color of Obama’s skin. I am worried about the thinness of it. I am not concerned by his blood lines. But I am gravely concerned about Obama’s blood oaths (Ayers, Khalidi, Rezko, Wright, et al).

Some say Obama has turned the race for the White House into American Idol. I fear more his idle, empty social welfare rhetoric, and ideologically cluttered foreign policy vision.

Sen. John McCain prepared to become President of the United States by living, serving and persevering. Sen. Obama prepared by endearing himself to powerful and wealthy mentors, memorizing every page of the Democrat playbook and reciting it to the adoring masses with undeniable eloquence.

Before you vote on Tuesday, and if you are at all undecided, consider the eloquence of commentator Charles Krauthammer, who offers the most concise description of the Obama phenomenon I have read (below). Most of all remember that, while we are strong and resilient as a nation, we are not invulnerable, even to trifling, ambitious, unqualified political candidates.

Krauthammer, August 2008:
“Barack Obama is an immensely talented man whose talents have been largely devoted to crafting, and chronicling, his own life. Not things. Not ideas. Not institutions. But himself.

“Nothing wrong or even terribly odd about that, except that he is laying claim to the job of crafting the coming history of the United States. A leap of such audacity is odd. The air of unease at the Democratic convention ... was not just a result of the Clinton psychodrama. The deeper anxiety was that the party was nominating a man of many gifts but precious few accomplishments – bearing even fewer witnesses.”

By: The Conservative Soldier.

United Airlines announced this week it is cutting 7,000 jobs by the end of next year.

I hope the 7,000 include some of the lying, arrogant, incompetent and utterly useless employees who transformed our recent routine Washington-to-Chicago trip into an all too typical commercial aviation nightmare.

I know, I know. They're here for our safety. For example, I am sure they know exactly what to do to protect us from say, overindulging on peanuts or soda pop. They keep us safe from that nasty stuff by making only one pass down the economy aisle with "snacks" and beverages. Up front, they present warm nuts but still make you beg for that beverage refill.

But what do they really know about protecting us from, say, mental breakdowns and gate rage and anxiety attacks? Based on my recent experience at Washington Dulles, I am certain these union loyalists know absolutely nothing.

The scenario I am about to describe happens repeatedly, every day of the year at airports from coast to coast. But, as with starvation in Africa or human rights abuses in China, the conversation and the quest for permanent solutions must persist until progress is achieved. We must not stop having a national dialog among weary travelers about the airlines' gross incompetence simply because it addresses the same old same old. We have to keep talking about it, we have to step up the criticism, we have to demand these gnats on the front lines of a dying industry be swatted from time to time.

The flight was United's 461, Boeing 767-300 service from Dulles to O'Hare at 6:45 in the evening. It began quite well. My wife, daughter and I successfully upgraded from Economy Plus to United Business. (The aircraft has a three-cabin configuration of First, Business and Economy, as it is principally intended for international service). This particular 767 recently was updated to United's newest International First and Business seating. The Business seats are narrower than ever, but are designed to become flat for sleeping, and provide each customer a private pod in which to rest, or watch moves or play video games on what appeared to be 19-inch screens.

Off we went toward the end of the taxiway, an active runway close at hand. Around us, fellow Business upgradees were positively giddy about all the new buttons to press and various seat-comfort positions they were about to road test.

Before long, as I listened to air traffic control, I heard our cockpit crew request a delay for a "maintenance issue". Huge red flag. Of course, if we'd been lucky, they would have been referring to nothing more serious than an inoperative coffeemaker. No such luck. Thus began another chapter in my deteriorating 25-year relationship with United Airlines.

Back to the gate we would go, owed to some problem with a leading wing edge component that aids aircraft control in flight. The captain's tone was not particularly dire, so there seemed to be optimism in the air that a mechanic would swoop in and save the day with a piece or two of duct tape.

Never happened. (A team of mechanics was unable to fix the problem on the 767, which leads one to wonder how the aircraft made it to Dulles in the first place. Or ... was the "mechanical issue" simply a convenient cancellation tactic?)

As we sat, oblivious, with alternate flight options slowly dissolving, the cockpit crew ate a quick dinner, probably chit-chatting about pension woes and salary concessions. Ultimately we were sent off the aircraft and told to report several gates away to another, waiting aircraft. Sounded like a good deal.

Bad deal. This was a Boeing 757, a single isle aircraft. The first officer jumped on the PA and assured us there was room for everybody, but he never mentioned the little problem dawning on us more seasoned travelers. A different plane meant that all of our boarding passes were now irrelevant. I cringed thinking about how long it would take to re-issue them to 150+, grumpy passengers.

Turns out only a few boarding passes were re-issued (including mine). In the interim, a gate agent with a heavy Jamaican accent made a few incoherent announcements, begging patience and providing absolutely no sense of what the plan was. Then along came another customer service guy who also looked like a security type (to combat gate rage, presumably). His bit of exciting news was that the flight crew was about to become "illegal", meaning they were nearing the maximum number of hours they can work in a day. The poor babies do need their rest. You can't be obnoxious and indifferent without proper sleep, after all. You can't not find an extra pillow without a restful interlude now and then.

The search was on for another flight crew, we were told. No one believed that for a second, of course.

As the Jamaican handed me my re-issued boarding passes for the "new" UA 461, my cell phone buzzed. It was an automated message from United. UA 461 was cancelled.

I advised the Jamaican. His phone rang just then. Confirming what I knew before he did.

He advised the masses to return to the main Dulles terminal and to visit "Q9". He meant queue nine. But, alas, in his native tongue, queue means "line". As in, get in line and await your fate.

We bee-lined to the nearest Red Carpet Club, where we were re-booked on a flight the next day at 10 am, handed complimentary toiletry kits and wished a most pleasant good night.

A night that began with the promise of a lie-flat bed ended in a taxi cab to my parents' home for a quick nap and a shower. And we were considered the lucky ones.