Birds of a Feather

My daddy always cautioned us to be real careful about who we hung out with because he believed wholeheartedly in "guilty by association" and that "birds of a feather flock together." When he said this to the teenage me, I would roll my eyes (when he wasn't looking) and sigh audibly (well, not TOO audibly), and just quietly wait for him to finish. But now the adult me knows that it's true: people do tend to spend time with, publicly endorse, and collaborate with those they admire and aspire to be like, with those whose opinions and beliefs they share.

We all do it.

Even Obama who has a long relationship of admiration and support of William (Bill) Ayers, a member of our domestic terrorist hall of shame. FoxNews.com reports that an unidentified blogger unearthed a 12/21/1997 endorsement in the Chicago Tribune in which one Barack Obama publicly praised Ayers' book on the juvenile court system. His glowing endorsement is printed right beside a picture of his young, smiling countenance.

Then there's that 1995 meeting Obama attended at Ayers' home. There's a multi-year trail of board meetings, retreats, organizational meetings they both attended. Just google "Obama Ayers" and enjoy the pages and pages that result, each page filled with references to blogs, news articles, and transcripts of radio and television shows outlining all the times the paths of these two men have crossed. The Obama folks continue to pooh-pooh any association with Ayers as nothing more than coincidence, but there are far too many coincidences to ignore.

Obama repeatedly uses the same logic I used with my daddy: denying any association and when that doesn't work, dismissing the old adage about guilt by association and birds flying together as pure antiquated poppycock. While such rebuttal sounded airtight and foolproof when I used it as a teenager trying to get my daddy to let me go to a big rock concert, I'm now listening through ears that more closely resemble my daddy's wizened ears to a man who wants to preside over this not-perfect-but-still-great country, and I'm here to tell you that those feeble, ridiculous arguments sure do sound like, as my daddy would say, the bit dog is hollering.