The Buck Stops Here

Harry Truman was a plain-spoken man. He took full responsibility for his job and he didn't place blame or excuses for the abrupt way that he inherited the presidency when FDR died. Nor did he ever flinch from standing his ground on foreign policies.

His support for Israel as a nation in 1948 was unprecedented and somewhat unpopular to some of our allies and a few of our former allies from World War II.

Living here in Independence Missouri, you will find all kinds of Truman reminders. His presidential library is here as well as the home that he shared with his beloved Bess.

President Truman lived his life working hard, wooing Bess and honoring his oath in office to the full extent of his abilities.

In this new century will we ever be able to find a straight talking and duty- bound person like him again?

Politics has become very much like sorting cows and it is a hot and dirty process. Some of us choose our candidates by party lines, or by religion and personal beliefs. And if the incumbent is a stinker, you vote for the lesser of two evils.

Right now, I think I would prefer those hot dusty days of sorting cows to an election year anytime. I am quite frankly tired of all of the talking heads and wish for the simple whistle stops of the 30's and 40's.

2012 should be the year that we hold accountability to all of our elected officials. The Buck Stops Here when we trust these individuals to clear up the mess no matter WHO created it in the first place.

By now, all of the rest of America has figured out that no one can understand the simplicity of balancing a check book or putting aside special interests to get us back on track.

If we were sorting cows and a few strays decided that they do not have to follow the trail, there is always a cowboy or two that can get them back in line.

The rancher who hires good help never has to worry that his herd will be lost or stolen. His fences will always be watched and mended. He knows that in lean times, it is better to travel light with only the essentials needed to ride the trail. His saddlebag contains a clean shirt; coffee and a can to boil it in, a frying pan, a bit of flour, a fishing hook and bacon. He also carries a little grain for his horse and some water.

Can we expect any less from the very people who want to represent us? We must insist on good help to keep the herd from roaming off into dangerous places. Our ranch hands must be WORTHY OF THEIR HIRE! We do not want bunkhouse babies who cry about saddle sores and hard work.

As John Wayne would say, "We are burning daylight. Saddle up and Ride!"