I believe the vast majority of private pilots in America fit
this class group.


There is a great amount of interest in this year’s
presidential elections, as everybody seems to recognize that
our next president has to be a lot better than George Bush.
The Democrats are riding high with two groundbreaking
candidates — a woman and an African-American — while the
conservative Republicans are in a quandary about their
party’s nod to a quasi-liberal maverick, John McCain.

Each candidate is carefully pandering to a smorgasbord of
special-interest groups, ranging from gay, lesbian and
transgender people to children of illegal immigrants to
working mothers to evangelical Christians.

There is one group no one has recognized, and it is the
group that will decide the election: the Angry White Man.
The Angry White Man comes from all economic backgrounds,
from dirt-poor to filthy rich. He represents all geographic
areas in America, from urban sophisticate to rural redneck,
deep South to mountain West, left Coast to Eastern Seaboard.

His common traits are that he isn’t looking for anything
from anyone — just the promise to be able to make his own
way on a level playing field. In many cases, he is an
independent businessman and employs several people. He pays
more than his share of taxes and works hard.

The victimhood syndrome buzzwords — “disenfranchised,”
“marginalized” and “voiceless” — don’t resonate with him.
“Press ‘one’ for English” is a curse-word to him. He’s used
to picking up the tab, whether it’s the company Christmas
party, three sets of braces, three college educations or a
beautiful wedding.

He believes the Constitution is to be interpreted literally,
not as a “living document” open to the whims and vagaries of
a panel of judges who have never worked an honest day in
their lives.

The Angry White Man owns firearms, and he’s willing to pick
up a gun to defend his home and his country. He is willing
to lay down his life to defend the freedom and safety of
others, and the thought of killing someone who needs killing
really doesn’t bother him.

The Angry White Man is not a metrosexual, a homosexual or a
victim. Nobody like him drowned in Hurricane Katrina — he
got his people together and got the hell out, then went back
in to rescue those too helpless and stupid to help
themselves, often as a police officer, a National Guard
soldier or a volunteer firefighter.

His last name and religion don’t matter. His background
might be Italian, English, Polish, German, Slavic, Irish, or
Russian, and he might have Cherokee, Mexican, or Puerto
Rican mixed in, but he considers himself a white American.

He’s a man’s man, the kind of guy who likes to play poker,
watch football, hunt white-tailed deer, call turkeys, play
golf, spend a few bucks at a strip club once in a blue moon,
change his own oil and build things. He coaches baseball,
soccer and football teams and doesn’t ask for a penny. He’s
the kind of guy who can put an addition on his house with a
couple of friends, drill an oil well, weld a new bumper for
his truck, design a factory and publish books. He can fill a
train with 100,000 tons of coal and get it to the power
plant on time so that you keep the lights on and never know
what it took to flip that light switch.

Women either love him or hate him, but they know he’s a man,
not a dishrag. If they’re looking for someone to walk all
over, they’ve got the wrong guy. He stands up straight,
opens doors for women and says “Yes, sir” and “No, ma’am.”

He might be a Republican and he might be a Democrat; he
might be a Libertarian or a Green. He knows that his wife is
more emotional than rational, and he guides the family in a
rational manner.

He’s not a racist, but he is annoyed and disappointed when
people of certain backgrounds exhibit behavior that typifies
the worst stereotypes of their race. He’s willing to give
everybody a fair chance if they work hard, play by the rules
and learn English.

Most important, the Angry White Man is ****ed off. When his
job site becomes flooded with illegal workers who don’t pay
taxes and his wages drop like a stone, he gets righteously
angry. When his job gets shipped overseas, and he has to
speak to some incomprehensible idiot in India for tech
support, he simmers. When Al Sharpton comes on TV, leading
some rally for reparations for slavery or some such
nonsense, he bites his tongue and he remembers. When a child
gets charged with carrying a concealed weapon for mistakenly
bringing a penknife to school, he takes note of who the
local idiots are in education and law enforcement.

He also votes, and the Angry White Man loathes Hillary
Clinton. Her voice reminds him of a shovel scraping a rock.
He recoils at the mere sight of her on television. Her very
image disgusts him, and he cannot fathom why anyone would
want her as their leader. It’s not that she is a woman. It’s
that she is who she is. It’s the liberal victim groups she
panders to, the “poor me” attitude that she represents, her
inability to give a straight answer to an honest question,
his tax dollars that she wants to give to people who refuse
to do anything for themselves.

There are many millions of Angry White Men. Four million
Angry White Men are members of the National Rifle
Association, and all of them will vote against Hillary
Clinton, just as the great majority of them voted for George
Bush.

He hopes that she will be the Democratic nominee for
president in 2008, and he will make sure that she gets
beaten like a drum.