I Blame Bill Clinton

Billy, blowing.

Until Bill Clinton blew into town, no pun intended, the person occupying the Oval Office possessed a certain amount of dignity, and except for Lyndon Johnson, class. No matter your party affiliation, you could pretty much see that person as "Commander-in-Chief" and leader of the free world. Intelligent, articulate and well above the average man or woman on the street, they almost always instilled confidence  that they could handle a crisis of mammoth proportions with ease. You could sleep well at night, without fear of being awakened by a nuclear bomb landing in your bed.

Then along came Bill Clinton. Blowing on his saxophone -- and a variety of body parts belonging to his longtime mistress Gennifer Flowers, with whom he had a ten-year extra-marital affair pre-dating his election to the presidency -- he took DC by storm with his good looks and southern boy charm. But I was never charmed. Instead he reminded me of all the jocks in high-school who thought they were hot, but were not.

As we all know, in addition to Flowers there was a string of accusers asserting Clinton did everything from exposing himself to forcing them to have oral sex to rape to repeated sex with a young White House intern in the Oval Office. Basically, Clinton was rotten to the core, although pretty good at running the country, I'll give him that. 

Sadly, the acceptance of his heinous conduct by the adoring Democrats as "his personal business" is what led us down the slippery slope to right now, with a total dumbass running for the same office on the Democratic ticket. It's impossible to consider having a good night's sleep with Kamala Harris as the "leader of the free world." Imagine her reaction if we are attacked by a foreign nation in the middle of the night. Keep imagining that when you go to vote on Election Day. Ask yourself, "Is it safe?"*

* (Famous line from the 1976 film "Marathon Man." No, it was not safe. Google it!)