Jeff Hoover's ignoble exit from Kentucky legislature is well-earned

It's hard to think of a Kentucky legislator who's had a more degrading descent from power in recent years than Jeff Hoover.

Hoover, a Republican from Russell County in south-central Kentucky, went from the top of the mountain to an inglorious exit from public service in just three short years.

It didn't have to be this way, but something happened along the journey. Just as Hoover had made it to the pinnacle of power, he took himself down.

For years, Hoover toiled as a member, and then leader, of the minority in the Kentucky House of Representatives. He first took office in 1997, at a time when Democrats dominated the state's political scene. The governor's office and both houses of the legislature were under their power. The GOP had not gained leadership of the Senate at that point.

Hoover quickly worked his way into a leadership position in the Republican caucus, becoming minority leader in 2001. He was the longest serving GOP House leader in the state's history even before his elevation to House speaker following the Republicans' astonishing electoral success in 2016.

The GOP gradually made inroads on taking control of the House. Republicans began winning more and more elections, even in districts drawn when Jody Richards and Greg Stumbo were in control of the House to be friendly to Democrats. Finally, in 2016, the unthinkable happened: Riding Donald Trump's coattails, Republicans decisively took control of the House of Representatives. This followed the election of Republican Gov. Matt Bevin, only the third Republican to  hold that office since 1947, a year prior. Naturally, Hoover, who had led the GOP when they were a decided minority, was chosen speaker.

The wheels came off fast, though. Speaker Hoover got caught up in a sexual harassment and "sexting" scandal that forced his resignation as speaker. Bevin called for him to resign completely from the House, but he didn't. He won re-election in 2018, but decided not to seek office again this year. He'll be leaving office this month, a mere shadow of the well-respected leader he used to be.

Since his fall from grace, Hoover has obviously become bitter. He's been extremely critical of fellow Republicans, especially the most outspoken conservatives, and seems to go out of his way to heap praise on liberal Democrats. He's sided with Gov. Andy Beshear over members of his own party on a number of issues. He buddy-buddies with former political opponents, as if he's desperate for their praise and acceptance. He compliments them, and they pat him on the back in return.

Then again, this behavior shouldn't really come as a surprise. Hoover had tipped his hand long ago. Back in 2007, Republican Gov. Ernie Fletcher was taking heat from the Democrats who were unhappy that he'd had the audacity to spoil their party. After all, they'd held the governorship from 1971, when Louie Nunn left office, until 2003. Control of Kentucky is the Democrats' birthright, or so they believe. Republicans should have presented a unified front to defend Fletcher, since they'd been victimized for years by the policies Fletcher was trying to reverse. Instead, too many notable GOP leaders remained silent, or worse, sided with the Democrats. Hoover didn't help. He joined a ticket with Fletcher's former congressional cohort Anne Northup to challenge Fletcher in the 2007 gubernatorial primary. Fletcher faced an uphill re-election battle as it was, but the primary siphoned valuable resources from him that he could have used in his general election campaign. The fact that the Republican leader in the House of Representatives couldn't see fit to fight alongside a governor of his own party -- one who had served for a time with Hoover in Frankfort -- was telling.

So, what comes next for Hoover as he leaves public service with his tail tucked between his legs? He's an attorney, so obviously he can continue to practice law while he draws his legislative pension. He's been hosting a talk show on a Lake Cumberland-area radio station, so no doubt that will continue. He'll probably maintain his Twitter account so he can take potshots at conservative Republicans and praise liberal Democrats. And since he's related by marriage to Al Cross, retired Courier-Journal political writer who still pens a statewide column, and they're from the same area of the state, he can be one of those unnamed "political observers" that pundits like to quote when they want to make a point.

Jeff Hoover had risen to the top. If not for his self-defeating acts, who knows what could have happened for him. The 2023 gubernatorial race is wide-open, and he could have run for the top spot as a relatively young 63-year-old statewide political leader. Or he could have opted to remain in the House, leading the GOP majority that Republicans worked so hard for so many years to obtain. But now, he pitifully leaves office as a shadow of himself, seeking validation from Kentucky's left. He could have chosen to go with dignity, but he seems intent on burning bridges. That makes it difficult to garner any sympathy for him. He deserves his fate. He's earned it. He won't be missed.

Hoover's story should serve as a good example of what not to do for current House Speaker David Osborne, or any other Republican in Kentucky who finally makes it to the top. Behave appropriately and stay loyal to the principles you claim to hold. Otherwise, you, too, can leave in dishonor and disgrace.

"Never Trumpers" claim to be conservatives, but they're not

A weekend Washington Post opinion piece by E.J. Dionne got a lot of traction among certain segments of political observers. Since it was paywalled, I was unable to read it, as there's no way I'd waste good money on a subscription to that liberal propaganda publication. But the summaries of the column and the amplification it got from particular groups and individuals were enough to prove that his take is based on an obvious fallacy that has been embraced by far too many.

Basically, Dionne said that Democrats owe a big debt of gratitude to those "Never Trump" conservatives who worked hard to defeat the president's re-election bid. And that's where his argument fails.

You cannot be a conservative and oppose Trump. It's a logical fallacy. Those who claim they are a conservative yet did not support his re-election are fooling themselves.

I've frequently made the point that Trump himself may not be a conservative, but he has governed as a conservative. His accomplishments read like a wish list for the right: border security, putting American interests first, appointing constitutionalists to the Supreme Court and other judgeships, strengthening our military while reducing our involvement in places where our presence does not advance American interests, making partners in international pacts pull their fair share of the weight, withdrawing from the disastrous Iran nuclear deal and Paris climate change accord, and many more.

Why, then would a so-called conservative want Joe Biden to be president? These people would have supported whomever the Democrats nominated, even if it had been Bernie Sanders or Pete Buttigieg. The easiest and most apparent answer is that they're opposed to Trump himself. John McCain may have called himself a "maverick," but the descriptor fits Trump better. He brought a new approach to doing things, having not been contaminated by years in politics. He shot straight and didn't mince words when he said what was on his mind. For those who value style over substance, or decorum over doing, it was a drastic change from what they were used to. They couldn't abide someone who had come from outside the system and wasn't willing to do things they way they'd always been done.

They made the judgment that their own personal dislike for Trump overrode the fact that Trump's policies and theirs were on the same track. Personally, I find this incomprehensible. There have been plenty of times where I didn't like a particular Republican candidate, but I never advocated for the election of a candidate whose ideological views were totally opposite of mine. Take Mitch McConnell, for instance. He fell out of favor with me for a variety of reasons about 15 years ago, but I've never supported or voted for any of his opponents in his three elections since then. As bad and as much of a RINO as McConnell is, Amy McGrath would have been much worse. I didn't vote for McConnell, but I certainly didn't vote for or support McGrath.

So, keep in mind that these people who describe themselves as conservatives willingly threw their support to the liberal Biden, because they regard him as "decent" and "honest," over someone with whom they personally disapprove but who's on their side where policy is concerned.

But it gets worse. These same faux conservatives, most notably the traitors and turncoats who call themselves the Lincoln Project, are now openly working for Republicans to lose control of the Senate. As it stands now, the Senate is all that stands between Biden's agenda and America. And counting on a Senate controlled by McConnell and populated with squishes like Mitt Romney, Ben Sasse, Lisa Murkowski, and Susan Collins is risky enough as it is. The outcome of the Georgia Senate runoffs could change that, and the Lincoln Project has joined other liberals in going all-in to elect the Democrat challengers.

Consider this. The so-called conservatives with the Lincoln Project are willing to give over control of this country to a Biden presidency, a House of Representatives controlled by Nancy Pelosi, and a split Senate where Kamala Harris would hold the tiebreaking vote. There's nothing conservative about that.

But the Lincoln Project turncoats aren't the only ones falsely clinging to the conservative label. The thumbnail for the social media shares on Dionne's column featured a picture of Bill Kristol, who beclowns himself every time he fires off a tweet or writes a screed for National Review. Kristol long ago forfeited any right to call himself a conservative. He doesn't even make a good establishment Republican these days. He's turned into an out-and-out liberal, just like those Lincoln Project types who abandoned principle and policy for reasons known only to them.

If anyone is owed a debt, it's Donald Trump. For all his policy accomplishments, his biggest one is political -- which is a feat unto itself considering the fact that he came from the private business sector, not the public political one. He has exposed countless RINOs and COINs (conservatives only in name) for what they are. From elected officials like Romney to activists like those in the Lincoln Project to commentators like Kristol and others (George Will, Jennifer Rubin, David Brooks, David Frum, Kathleen Parker, and the list goes on) who call themselves conservatives but have spent the last four years savaging Trump, the 45th president has revealed their true character they try to hide beneath their misapplied labels.

The "never Trump" crowd is free to act in any way it wants. That's the beauty of American free speech and political activism. They just shouldn't do it under false pretenses or with untrue self-advertising. These people are not conservatives. Don't believe them when they claim they are. Their words and actions say differently.

A daily double of outrage for Kentucky liberals

A couple of things happened one day last week that, if taken separately, would have caused Kentucky liberals to erupt into fits of rage. But for both of them to happen on the same day ... well, let's just say that was like hitting the daily double for those of us who are entertained by watching the reactions of the left when they get triggered.

Anyone who's followed the news in Kentucky knows that we are currently in the midst of another government-mandated shutdown of private businesses in yet another overreaching, intrusive effort to respond to the Wuhan Chinese virus. This restriction is the closure of restaurants to indoor dining. With meteorological winter firmly upon us, this in effect means that restaurants are allowed to serve food only for carryout. No one's going to eat outside or in a poorly-insulated tent in 40-degree weather. The food service industry has already been crippled by previous shutdowns and continued capacity limitations, and many restaurants have announced their permanent closure. Bills remain even if revenue isn't coming in, and it's unrealistic to expect restaurants to be able to exist solely on in-person capacity limits of 50 percent, much less off-premises dining.

Some restaurants, though, decided that they would defy the orders of Gov. Andy Beshear and remain open. Most prominent among them, judging by news coverage, are Wingz 2.0 of London, Brewed in Lexington, and Beans from Dry Ridge. An incident that occurred at the latter got under the skin of Kentucky liberals who have worshiped the ground the governor walks on since he began his daily updates on the virus.

Separately, State Rep. Savannah Maddox and State Sen. Damon Thayer seem to generate the most outrage among the left. Maddox, who's fairly new to politics, has been an outspoken critic of the governor's response to the virus, and Thayer has been a thorn in the side of many his entire career. Both Maddox and Thayer represent Grant County, where Dry Ridge is located, in the General Assembly. Imagine the uproar when the two of them join forces.

Maddox has been promoting and championing Beans since the eatery decided to remain open in opposition to Beshear's closure decree. She decided to have lunch there last Thursday, Dec. 4, and eat in the dining room to show support. While she was there, Thayer happened to pop in for lunch, quite by chance. Maddox posted a picture of the two of them eating lunch together to her social media accounts, and the detractors of the conservative firebrand sprang into action. Their outrage filled Facebook and Twitter.

Another similar anger-producing moment occurred when State Rep.-elect Josh Bray, the Mt. Vernon Republican who defeated first-term RINO R. Travis Brenda in May and cruised to election in the November general election, shared photos of his visit to Brewed, the Lexington coffee shop that also defied the governor. For some reason, probably because he was a classroom teacher, Brenda was one of the few Republicans who found favor with the radical 120 Strong group (not so affectionately referred to here as "120 Wrong.") The 120 Strong group are some of Beshear's biggest fangirls, so naturally they weren't thrilled when Bray expressed his opinion.

But the happenstance lunch meeting between two legislators the left loves to hate wasn't the only triggering event that day. A month ago, Kentuckians elected a slew of new legislators, particularly in the House of Representatives, where the GOP will enjoy a 75-25 supermajority. The short 2021 legislative session begins on Jan. 5, when the legislature meets to select its leaders and begin consideration of bills deemed vital, so the freshman class gathered in Frankfort last Thursday for orientation.

Most of the Republicans opted not to participate in the Democrats' political theater and didn't wear masks to the meeting. The reaction of the superminority was predictable. Many Democrats made righteously indignant posts to social media, the party's legislative leaders issued statements of outrage, and the fangirls of "120 Wrong" piled on. One northern Kentucky Democrat even claimed, without any basis in fact, that she would not be able to see an elderly parent for whom she cares for a week because she was around people who didn't wear masks. (News flash for the drama queen: Unless one of those maskless people has the virus, and you were within six feet of them for more than 15 minutes, you don't have anything to worry about.)

It was a thing of beauty for those of us who are amused by all this spittle-spewing rage. And like Clark W. Griswold's "Jelly of the Month Club" Christmas bonus, it was the gift that keeps on giving. Later in the weekend, another Democrat pulled out the sarcasm, asking "for a caucus" in a tweet what advice medical professionals would give to protect one's self if they were around people who didn't wear masks. The correct answer, of course, is that if she is wearing her own mask, she need not be concerned about what others are doing.

Republicans are frequently criticized for politicizing the virus, but that's not the case here. There's no indication that the GOP House frosh consulted with each other, or party leaders, when they decided not to wear masks to orientation. It was the Democrats, not the Republicans, who spoke as a party on the matter. And as to the general idea that Republicans have turned it into a partisan issue, keep in mind that Ohio Gov. Mike DeWine is a registered Republican, yet it's Republicans in the legislature who have begun impeachment proceedings against him over the way he's handled the virus. It might be more correct to say there's an ideological divide between those who prefer that individuals make their own decisions on how they're going to respond to the virus, vs. those who want the government to take restrictive action to limit freedoms. The infamous Ben Franklin quote about trading liberty for safety has often been cited since spring.

Make no mistake, stakes are high for our state and nation. It's hard to see liberties and livelihoods taken away, watching businesses close and people losing their jobs even as the edicts governments impose on the citizenry fail to do what they're intended to do -- that being, stopping the virus. It's even worse for those of us who aren't fans of what's coming to America next month in the way of a Joe Biden presidency. So we take our joy where we can find it. And if that joy includes watching liberals spaz out when a couple of Republicans eat in a restaurant, a group of incoming legislators don't don their "face diapers," or President Trump and his supporters and surrogates point out election irregularities, then we'll enjoy the show for as long as it lasts.

The upcoming Kentucky General Assembly session appears to be a fertile breeding ground for "120 Wrong" exploding heads. And it couldn't happen to a more deserving bunch. The legislature is already signaling that it plans to address executive authority when the session convenes, perhaps even in that first week that's usually reserved for organization and selection of leaders. There are rumblings that they might even tackle sorely-needed public pension reform to preserve the retirement incomes of current employees and retirees, and ensure that a viable system remains in place for future hires. It would be worth following some of the loudest voices on social media just to see how they react. It will probably be a better show than the 1992 NCAA Tournament East Region finals. (All but the final 2.1 seconds, of course.)

In defense of "Hillbilly Elegy"

With the cinematic adaptation of Hillbilly Elegy, the memoir written by J.D. Vance about his life as the descendant of a family that moved from the mountains of eastern Kentucky to the industrial midwest, hitting the screen this week, there's been a renewed interest in the book.

The 2016 tome's been subjected to a lot of criticism, much of it from liberals who, like Vance's family, moved away from Appalachia in search of a better life. They seem to recoil at the idea that with hard work and determination, anyone can break away from anchors such as poverty and substance abuse to succeed in life.

Vance never really promoted his book as anything more than his own experiences, but far too many have tried to paint it as what in their view is a flawed narrative about an entire region and culture.

I finally had a chance to read the book last year, and couldn't find anything in it with which to find fault. And I feel like I can bring a unique perspective to an analysis of his work.

Although Vance grew up in Middletown, Ohio, in an area populated with expatriate Kentuckians, his family hails from Breathitt County, and he notes in the book that he spent many summers and holidays back in the mountains. I grew up in, and still live in, a county adjacent to Breathitt. I've lived in Appalachia all my life (including six years in Winchester, as Clark County is considered to be Appalachian by the federal government). And I've worked in Breathitt County for more than two decades. I don't know any of Vance's Breathitt relatives -- at least I don't think I do -- but I certainly know the places of which he writes, and the way of life there.

In addition, my wife's background is a bit similar to Vance's. She was born in Ohio to parents who had relocated from Lee County. (They returned home when she was young.) Her family didn't suffer the dysfunctionality or substance abuse issues like Vance's, but she was one of the first from her family to attend and graduate from college. I've heard her stories, and combined with my own observations and experiences, I feel like this enables me to provide a valid viewpoint.

The same issues Vance faced as a youth in southwestern Ohio are similar to those endured by those who remain in southeastern Kentucky. The same economic conditions that caused folks to migrate northward years ago are now manifesting themselves in those communities with the closure of industrial facilities that popularized a different set of "Three R's" in the mountains -- reading, (w)riting, and Route 23 (or 25 or 27, as the case may be, as all three highways lead out of Kentucky and across the Ohio River). Addiction issues are well-known in the mountains and are also problematic in the Rust Belt. Families where children are raised by their grandparents are very common in this area. Many of Vance's critics have labeled him as an outsider writing about rural mountain culture. They forget that his roots are here, and the community from where he came in Ohio is full of transplanted hillbillies, to the point where the Breathitt County High School basketball team used to play two road games a year, on back-to-back nights, in northern Kentucky so transplanted Breathitt Countians could come see the Bobcats play and meet up with family from back home.

As noted, Vance never intended the book to be anything more than his story of someone who broke the cycle and found success, but his story should be inspirational. If he could overcome his environment, anyone with determination can. Perhaps that's why so many liberals are dismissive of his chronicle, if not outright hostile to his story.

No one could legitimately call the "War on Poverty," waged since at least the Johnson administration in the 1960s, a success. Poor areas of Appalachia remain poor despite millions of dollars being pumped into the area through welfare programs. This has, whether anyone likes it or not, eroded the work ethic that those of Vance's grandparents' vintage took with them to the midwest. But there are still plenty of people who want to work and support themselves and their families, and make something of their lives. But they're stuck with bad roads, slow or nonexistent Internet service, and other infrastructure hindrances. A region that was ravaged with population losses two generations ago continues to hemorrhage its best and brightest; many of whom would love to stay but simply cannot afford to.

I have yet to see a cogent explanation of why Hillbilly Elegy is "trash," as so many call it, beyond that declaration itself, as if it's definitive. Are they rejecting Vance's experience? Would they prefer that people be given money, rather than being given opportunities to earn their own money? Are those who left the hills for bigger cities so far removed from their own experiences that they fail to see what's going on back home? What, exactly, do they find in Vance's personal story that is so bad?

My own observation is that Vance's saga is spot-on. He could have chosen a life similar to that of his mother, many of his contemporaries, or the thousands of people left behind in the mountains from which his forebears migrated away. That would have been the easy way out. He didn't. He didn't settle for that existence. He went to college and then on to law school. He made his own opportunities and leveraged them into success.

Why anyone would disparage Vance's success and his accomplishments in the face of adversity makes little sense. Do they not believe he managed to make it the way he did, without being propped up by government giveaways? Does his story threaten the vision they have for the mountains, one where everyone is reliant on Uncle Sam? What is so objectionable about his life story?

I probably won't see the movie, even though parts of it were shot in Breathitt County. Early reviews indicate that it isn't terribly true to the book, as the movie begins with Vance being summoned home from law school to deal with his mother's drug problems. But the criticisms of the movie are generating renewed bashing of the book. When I first read it, I did so with the knowledge that many were critical of it. I may have to try to find a copy of it and re-read it with an even more keen eye to try to find just what so many -- wrongly, in my view -- find objectionable.

There's a reason that "Team Kentucky" logo looks familiar

Do you hear the "Team Kentucky" catchphrase and see the "Team Kentucky" logo that's used every day to promote the state's mandates in response to the Wuhan Chinese virus and think, "Wow, that seems familiar?"

There's a good reason it should. Before "Team Kentucky" became the slogan for the Beshear administration's anti-virus effort and the hashtag for its social media promotion, it was the campaign slogan for the Democrats' run for statewide offices last year.

A trip down the Twitter rabbit hole over the weekend journeyed through 2019 attorney general candidate Greg Stumbo's feed. The former House speaker, who ignobly lost his legislative seat in 2016 as Republicans swept control of the lower chamber, sought a political comeback three years later by running for the statewide office he held to the detriment of the state during Ernie Fletcher's gubernatorial term. As that campaign wound down, the Democrat slate and their surrogates mounted a tour of the state to promote what ended up being, except for Andy Beshear, a lost cause. They undertook this effort under the "Team Kentucky" moniker.

But don't just take my word for it. Let Stumbo and Rocky Adkins, the former legislator and unsuccessful gubernatorial candidate who now works as a key aide to Gov. Beshear, show you in their own tweets.

That was last year. Now, the "Team Kentucky" campaign slogan and logo have been repurposed as some sort of official state initiative.

In simpler terms, every "Team Kentucky" slide that's shown during the daily virus briefings; every inclusion of the logo in the signature of a state email message; every encouragement for Kentuckians to be a part of "Team Kentucky;" is a political statement. Would anyone be surprised if, when Beshear runs again in 2023 and the virus crisis is behind us, the slogan isn't used in that campaign?

It's not unusual for politicians and officials to adopt slogans for campaigns and causes. Fletcher themed his inauguration "Unite Kentucky" but that phrase wasn't used again, for any state program or for his re-election campaign. Plays on words are often used. Witness "Kynect" for the now-resurrected health insurance purchasing exchange, as shorthand for "Kentucky Connect," as in, "we will connect you to health insurance plans."

There's certainly nothing wrong with using a catchy phrase to promote a public effort. "Give a hoot, don't pollute!" "Only you can prevent fires!" And it's understandable that government officials would want to get buy-in to their virus response, especially since that response has taken such a toll on the state's economy and has eroded the freedoms of so many individuals in addition to causing them financial hardships. But the whole "Team Such-And-Such" tag is getting old. Someone needs to find the person who first came up with that phrase and slap them hard across the face. Mitch McConnell uses it for every campaign.

If someone doesn't like the coach or the decisions he's making, it's hard for them to want to be on "Team Kentucky." It becomes even more difficult when the same phrase used to promote government mandates someone opposes was lifted from a political campaign by candidates who promote policies with which they disagree. While we all want the virus to go away, not everyone is onboard with mask wearing, school closures, business restrictions, and everything else members of that team are asked to adopt or endorse.

"Team Kentucky" may have been a perfectly fine slogan for the state's Wuhan Chinese virus publicity efforts had it not been previously used for a political campaign. But one has to wonder where that branding will go from here. When the virus is in the rear-view mirror, will the state use it to promote some other cause? One perhaps more popular and less controversial than the virus mandates and recommendations? And then in three years, will that slogan be transitioned again for an election? Will people be so conditioned to seeing "Team Kentucky" that it's as recognizable a logo as, say, McDonald's Golden Arches?

Republicans have been accused of politicizing the virus. But when the government recycles a political campaign slogan and logo for its official messaging, who's playing politics?

Kentucky media outlets, who have been so eager to cheerlead for the mandates and restrictions the government has handed down, are either unaware of the slogan's history, or they've chosen not to make the public aware of it. You be the judge of which scenario applies. Scant few pundits have dared to voice an opinion in opposition to the lockdowns, the forced business closures, the restriction of elective medical services -- except, of course, for abortions -- and all the other hardships we've been made to endure.

So, the next time you see the "Team Kentucky" logo or hear the phrase, with the urging to be a player on that team, now you'll know the history of that branding.

Mitch McConnell's swan song? Speculation on his future may provide fodder for political junkies

Sen. Mitch McConnell was favored to win re-election this year, but his margin of victory defied predictions and expectations. Polling consistently showed him with a decent advantage over challenger Amy McGrath, but no one could have foreseen what turned into a 20-point victory over a candidate who had high name recognition and plenty of campaign cash to throw into her candidacy.

So now that McConnell is going back to Washington, seemingly once again as Senate majority leader, what's next for the man who's credited for bringing back the Kentucky Republican Party from its moribund state in the 1970s and early 80s and propelling it to its position of dominance in Bluegrass politics?

McConnell is 78 years old; he'll turn 79 in February as the new congressional session is getting underway. It's widely believed that this is his last term and that he will not seek re-election in 2026, when he'll be 84. Conventional political wisdom is that his protege, Kentucky Attorney General Daniel Cameron, is being groomed to take his place.

But political speculation is always a fun game to play, so let's engage in a little of it where Kentucky's senior senator is concerned.

In weeks leading up to the election, McConnell's health came into question. His hands appeared badly bruised in some photos, and some said they could tell he was wearing makeup at some of his public appearances and his face appeared to look different. It prompted lots of wondering if perhaps he hadn't suffered a fall, and others theorized that he's having heart issues.

When Congress goes back into session, Gov. Andy Beshear will be entering the second year of his four-year term. Beshear will be up for re-election in 2023, at which time McConnell will have passed the 80 mark.

If something happens to McConnell between now and then, Beshear will get to choose his successor. Who might get the nod? It wouldn't be surprising if Beshear picks his father, former Gov. Steve Beshear, who ran unsuccessfully against McConnell in 1996 and was unable to deny him a third term.

But what might occur if McConnell is still kicking when 2023 rolls around? That's where the fun part of the speculation begins.

McConnell has long been the elephant in the room (pun intended) in Republican politics in Kentucky. He backed U.S. Rep. Ernie Fletcher for governor in 2003, then cut Fletcher's legs out from under him when then-Attorney General Greg Stumbo came after him. He dried up fellow Sen. Jim Bunning's fundraising for the 2010 senatorial election, forcing Bunning to decide not to run for re-election. (That gambit didn't pay off as planned, as Rand Paul defeated McConnell's chosen candidate, Trey Grayson, in the GOP primary.) Some are convinced he undermined Gov. Matt Bevin's re-election bid last year and tacitly supported Beshear because he was still angry that Bevin had dared to challenge him in the 2014 Senate primary. And he's also believed to have backed both Cameron and Secretary of State Michael Adams against primary foes last year, when the front-runners had come oh-so-close to ousting better-known and better-funded Democrats in 2015.

Plus, no one has ever provided a definitive answer to the supposition that McConnell and former Gov. Paul Patton had some sort of arrangement over the 1999 governor's race, when a vulnerable Patton, standing for re-election, didn't face a viable GOP challenger.

It's a given that there will be a crowded field in Republican ranks for the 2023 gubernatorial nomination. Treasurer Mike Harmon, Agriculture Secretary Ryan Quarles, and Treasurer Allison Ball are all logical and rumored candidates, as they were re-elected last year and are term-limited in their current positions. Congressman Jamie Comer is also an oft-rumored candidate, and conservative favorite state Rep. Savannah Maddox is getting all sorts of encouragement to run due to her outspoken stands against Gov. Beshear's executive orders in dealing with the Wuhan Chinese virus. Adams and Cameron are in their first terms, and are also mentioned at times as possible candidates, but they are less likely to run -- Cameron because he's seen as McConnell's eventual successor, and Adams because he forged a partnership with Beshear on election changes this year that have angered a number of Republicans.

McConnell might not make a public endorsement in the gubernatorial primary, but if he has a preferred candidate, his influence will be known and felt. And it wouldn't be surprising if McConnell makes a deal with a gubernatorial candidate: If you will pledge to appoint Daniel Cameron to the Senate, I will go all-in on your campaign and then resign after you are elected. Should McConnell be able to extract such a promise from one of the candidates, that's who he's likely to support.

McConnell claims to relish being the Senate majority leader, but he may not enjoy that job as much in the future as he has in the past. For at least two years, he's still going to have to deal with Nancy Pelosi as House speaker. Plus, it's looking increasingly likely that the presidency will be held by a Democrat, so he won't be able to tout judicial appointments as an accomplishment. He'll be back to where he was during the Barack Obama presidency, decrying his lack of ability to get anything done because he's only one-half of one-third of the government.

It's amazing that he was able to win re-election the way he did, given that he's disliked equally by liberal Democrats and by the conservative wing of the GOP. Brad Barron, a Libertarian, made a gallant effort to siphon conservative votes away from McConnell, but was unsuccessful in affecting the outcome. And liberals who continue to insist that the Democrats would have stood a better chance of beating McConnell with state Rep. Charles Booker instead of McGrath again show they don't understand just how this state is skewing to the right and away from the radical liberalism Booker represents. "Cocaine Mitch" beat the fighter pilot by 20 points. His margin against Booker would have been at least 25 points.

If McConnell's health holds up, how he inserts himself into the 2023 gubernatorial race will definitely be worth watching. And if the GOP wrests the governorship away from Beshear, his future will certainly be in play.

Kentucky voters send a strong message through GOP legislative landslide

Tuesday's election results in Kentucky further solidified the fact that Republicans are gaining power in the Bluegrass State, and Democrats are losing their grip on the reins of governance that they've controlled in this commonwealth for decades.

The most staggering outcome was in the state House of Representatives, where the GOP solidified its control of the chamber it first flipped in 2016. With a couple of races still too close to call, as of this writing it appears the Republicans will hold a whopping 75-25 advantage in the House.

And as much as Democrats wish they could, they can't blame this on gerrymandering. The House is still operating under districts that were drawn up in 2012, when Democrats were in the majority and held the leadership positions. To add insult to injury, many of these districts were set up in such a way as to benefit Democrats at the time the state was last redistricted.

Republicans have made such inroads into territory traditionally controlled by the Democrats that in Breathitt County, where Democrats have ruled for eons, a Republican state representative candidate from Estill County carried the county over a Democrat who lives in Breathitt. A decade ago, predicting that would have gotten you an involuntary admission to a mental hospital for observation.

While much of the GOP's success can be attributed to the presence of President Donald Trump at the top of the ballot, there's a more logical and timely explanation to the results that saw the GOP pick up more than a dozen seats, both in contested races by beating incumbent Democrats and in races with open seats currently held by Democrats who didn't seek re-election.

The Kentucky legislative races were a direct referendum on Gov. Andy Beshear's handling of the Wuhan Chinese virus. Recent public opinion polling showed the governor's approval rating hovering in the 55 percent range, but the flaws in polling were laid bare again in the presidential election. The real measure of public opinion comes at the ballot box, and the message sent Tuesday was that the governor either needs to change his approach to the virus, or the legislature will change it for him when the odd-year session starts in January.

Already, bills for the 2021 session have been prefiled that would severely limit the governor's emergency powers and prohibit the state from requiring vaccinations against the virus. Several bills to restrain the governor's ability to order sweeping business closures and institute mandates will likely be considered, but the best of the bunch is Bill Request 130, sponsored by GOP firebrand and rising star Rep. Savannah Maddox.

A Libertarian Party House candidate from west-central Kentucky, who made impeaching Beshear the top issue of his campaign, failed to unseat the incumbent Republican in his district, but rumblings out of Frankfort are that impeachment will be brought up. Across the state, the citizenry is tired of the restrictions it has been forced to live under since the spring. Jobs lost, businesses closed, schools dismissed and converted to at-home learning, everyday activities curtailed, unemployment system failures, and the general disruption of lives -- all of this has Kentucky residents ready for changes. And since the state does not have a recall provision for removing elected officials, the only way to reduce an executive's power is either to pass legislative limitations or by impeachment.

Every time the governor has announced some new restraints on the lives of Kentuckians, legislative leaders have responded by saying there will be a reckoning next year. We'll have to see if the governor gets the message the voters of the state sent him.

But beyond that, Republicans continued to show just how far they've come in a state that went 32 years between GOP governors between 1971 and 2003. A state that went twice for Bill Clinton for president roundly rejected a Democrat from neighboring Tennessee in 2000, and hasn't given its electoral votes to a Democrat since. Voter registration has been trending Republican to the point where the Democrats are on pace to lose the registration majority in a few years. State legislative districts in areas that have been solid Democrat strongholds for decades are sending Republicans to Frankfort. A Republican was elected to fill the state senate seat that will represent Frankfort -- the stereotypical company town -- and Frankin County. Two years ago, for the first time ever, Republicans took the majority of county judge-executive positions in Kentucky's 120 counties. The GOP holds both seats in the United States Senate, and five of six congressional seats. None of the Republican incumbents was seriously challenged in an election that saw Trump win all but two of Kentucky's counties (the liberal bastions of Jefferson and Fayette.) And last year, only the personal unpopularity of Gov. Matt Bevin prevented Republicans from sweeping all statewide constitutional offices.

There are as many explanations for this as there are Bluegrass political analysts to suggest them. Mitch McConnell's work to build the Republican Party as a statewide force instead of a regional faction limited to the "Old Fifth" is one reason. The shift of national Democrats away from the party's traditional focus to a more liberal viewpoint is another. How many times have you heard, "I didn't leave the Democrats, they left me," over the past few years? The view from here is that Kentuckians got tired of seeing their state ranking low in categories where a high rank is desirable, and ranking high in categories where it's preferable to rank low. They finally realized which party had run the state for years, particularly state government, and decided it was time for a change.

For years, Kentucky's legislature met for a 60-day session every two years. That fact gave rise to the oft-expressed sentiment that the state would be better off if the General Assembly met for two days every 60 years instead of 60 days every two years. In odd-numbered years, the legislature met only for a five-day organizational session after the previous November's elections. However, in 1998, Kentucky voters approved a constitutional amendment that allowed for annual sessions, and the odd-year sessions began in 2001. The rules are a bit different for the 30-day sessions, however, as supermajorities are required for passage of certain bills.

The practice has been that in odd years, the legislature would convene for a week for an organizational session as always, but consideration of legislation would not begin until the session reconvened several weeks later. That changed in 2017, after the GOP took control of the House of Representatives, giving them supermajorities in both chambers. With a Republican governor in power, the legislature passed an ambitious package of legislation during its first week.

So between now and January, observers should pay attention to the governor's words and deeds. Since the virus became a factor in Kentucky in March, Beshear has shown little inclination to work with legislative leaders. His recommendations and orders have come without benefit of consultation with the General Assembly. When legislative leaders have pushed back, he's bristled. With Republicans in even firmer control of the House and Senate, will Beshear strike a more conciliatory tone? Will he seek input from legislators? Or will he continue to act independently?

And what will the legislators do? Will they be ready to act during their first week in session, secure in the knowledge that they're immune from a gubernatorial veto? Or will they wait until they reconvene for the balance of their short session?

There's lots of business left to be done from this spring's virus-shortened meeting, including passage of the second year of a biennial budget. Given the urgency that the virus seemed to dictate, the legislature didn't do a lot of whittling on the governor's proposal. House leadership has already said one of their priorities is to pass "a responsible budget" when they come back into session. But representatives and senators, leaders and members, are saying more frequently that the governor's response to the virus will be under review, with various degrees of diplomacy in their statements. Some are more adamant than others that the governor will pay a price for actions they deem to be unilateral, heavy-handed, and detrimental to the long-term prospects of the state.

Kentucky voters weighed in on their expectations of the legislator via the Tuesday election results. Legislators have already indicated they heard the message. Whether or not the governor did remains to be seen and bears watching.

Viral TDS outbreak threatens liberals, media members, with loss of sanity and common sense

There's a viral outbreak of a new strain of a mental illness called Trump Derangement Syndrome (TDS) that threatens the sanity of the American left and members of the media.

First observed late last week, when President Trump announced that he had tested positive for the Wuhan Chinese virus, the outbreak escalated into epidemic proportions Sunday afternoon when the president left his hospital suite at Walter Reed Army Medical Center for a short trip around the block to greet supporters who had rallied outside the facility.

The impromptu ride triggered the press into fits of outrage. The White House Correspondents Association, the self-appointed overseers of presidential press conferences, went crazy because they were given no notification of the little excursion. Never mind that their pool members were busy capturing video footage of the motorcade. Their reaction is exactly why Trump didn't tell them what he was planning, other than teasing it via a Twitter video shortly before he did it.

And when members of the White House PR staff announced their positive tests, one of the correspondents stated he felt more safe covering events in North Korea than the president and the daily press briefings. This may have been the most dramatic of all the drama queen moments of the last few days.

The contagion had spread the previous day, when media members were busy second-guessing the reports from Trump's doctors on his condition and progress, and speculating as to whether or not Trump knew he had the virus at a fundraiser Thursday before his positive test was announced, at a campaign rally Wednesday night, or even at the debate on Tuesday when he had to take on both Joe Biden and Chris Wallace in a two-against-one battle.

But it blew up on Sunday, as news of the president's trip out of the hospital spread. Liberals were aghast at what happened. They said that Trump was recklessly endangering the public and members of his Secret Service detail, spreading the Chinese virus all over Bethesda, Md.

If they could just stop for one minute and think rationally, they'd realize just how wrong and misguided they are. But logical thought is not something for which the American left is known. A little reasoning blows their arguments out of the water.

It wasn't like Trump was out shaking hands with the crowd of well-wishers on the street outside Walter Reed. He was inside a vehicle. He wasn't exposing Secret Service agents needlessly and putting them in a situation where they'd be forced to quarantine for two weeks. No one outside the detail that had already been with him at the hospital, or at the White House prior to his admittance, was involved. And he was isolated from his driver in the vehicle, as the passenger compartment is separated from the driver's seat by glass.

But the biggest thing to consider is this: By putting forth the argument that Trump put the Secret Service agents at risk, liberals undercut one of their biggest claims in this whole virus response effort; that masks work and people need to wear them.  We in Kentucky hear this lecture every day from the governor and our state version of Fauci Jr. We have to wear masks or we're all gonna die. During Sunday's drive, Trump was wearing a mask. So, too, were the Secret Service agents. So what's the problem? If masks work, then everyone's in good shape and there's nothing to worry about. But claiming that the Secret Service agents were endangered is an admission that mask-wearing is pointless, isn't it?

Trump's trip outside the hospital served two purposes. Besides galvanizing and thrilling his supporters, it sent a message to the press that the breathless speculation in which they'd engaged over the president's condition was out of line. Various reports had Trump on death's door and in grave condition. Showing up in public proved the doubters wrong. By Monday afternoon, doctors were reporting his vital signs were good, his temperature was normal with no fever, and he was to the point where he could be released from the hospital and sent back to the White House that evening. Indeed, Trump left the hospital at 6:30 on Monday and returned to the White House half an hour later. Live coverage of his trip dominated the evening network newscasts.

Franklin D. Roosevelt took great pains to hide his medical condition and paralysis from the public, with his Secret Service agents going so far as to actively block photography of him in his wheelchair. Back in those days, the press was cooperative with the president's desire to keep his physical condition a secret. Contrast that with the present day, when the media has run wild with speculation as to his health and actively questioning what the doctors are saying. The investigative sleuths even thought they had a huge scoop Sunday by claiming metadata embedded in photos of the president working from the hospital showed that pictures purported to have been taken throughout the day were actually taken just a few minutes apart; forgetting that the data changes when photos are downloaded from the camera, touched up in photo editing software, and then saved as new files.

The media reaction to Trump's diagnosis and hospitalization should be yet another embarrassment for them, but time and time again, the press corps has proved to be shameless. No act is too over the top; nothing is off limits; in the pursuit to chase Trump from office. And the "I hope he dies" reactions from many liberals exposes "the loving, tolerant left" for its true self.

As of now, it appears Trump gets the last laugh. As Congressman Matt Gaetz said, it's not a question of Trump recovering from the virus, but of the virus surviving after having the audacity to infect Trump. The president has made a quick recovery and says he feels better than he has in years. He's always seemed to be a bundle of energy, showing more stamina as a 74-year-old man than most teens and 20-somethings. No doubt he's ready to get back to the twin challenges of leading the country and campaigning for re-election.

In the meantime, seeing the left melt down and the never-Trump press convulsing in fits never gets old. If we can thank Trump's health issues for anything, it's another opportunity to witness it in real time.

The differences between 2016 and 2020

If I had $10 for every time I've heard or read the names "Merrick Garland" or "Mitch McConnell" since the weekend, I'd never have to worry about money again.

The premise being, of course, that there's something hypocritical and inconsistent between McConnell having the Senate sit on Garland's nomination to the Supreme Court in 2016 after the death of Antonin Scalia, and his planning to proceed with confirming a nomination that President Trump will soon submit to replace the deceased Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

Anyone who cannot see the obvious differences between then and now is either ignorant, or being intentionally intellectually dishonest.

In 2016, President Obama was the definition of a lame duck. He was in the final months of his last term as president. It was a certainty that he would no longer be in office the next year since he was term-limited.

In 2020, President Trump is running for re-election with a very good chance, despite what the liberals in the press tell you, that he'll be inaugurated for his second term in January. There is no certainty that he will no longer be president next year.

It would be different, and like 2016, if Trump had chosen not to run for a second term. But he's on the ballot, and that changes everything.

Besides, in 2016, Trump was such a long shot to win the presidency that it could be argued that McConnell was saving the appointment of Scalia's replacement for Hillary Clinton. After all, just about everyone expected that she would win the election. According to those who know McConnell, even he was surprised at Trump's victory and was in fact already preparing to do business and make deals with her.

The statements that are being made about the Senate and presidency being controlled by different parties in 2016 and being controlled by the same party this year really shouldn't factor into the discussion. They are irrelevant, and McConnell does himself no favors by bringing this up.

If this was Trump's second term and he was for sure on his way out the door, then things might be different. If that was the case, as it was with Obama, then there would be merit to the argument that McConnell is being hypocritical. But the circumstances this year are completely different. And if you don't recognize that, you're either clueless or willfully blind.

For reasons known only to her, which she seemingly has taken to the grave, RBG chose to hold on to her associate justice position until her death. She battled cancer for years, and had a number of other health issues as she got older. She could have retired during Obama's presidency, giving him a chance to appoint another radical leftist in her place, but she hung on. It's been said that Obama himself made overtures to her that perhaps she should retire and step aside in favor of a younger liberal who could serve for decades. But mention that, and you get accused of being a conspiracy theorist and spreading baseless rumors by the same people who insist that Trump blackmailed Anthony Kennedy into retiring.

Trump has shown a knack for getting RINOs (Republicans In Name Only) and COINs (Conservatives Only In Name) to expose themselves, and he's done it again with his stated intentions to move forward with nominating a replacement for RBG. The usual suspects, Mitt Romney and Lisa Murkowski, have indicated they want to wait until after the presidential election to confirm an appointee.

Let that sink in: These supposed conservatives are willing to take the risk of allowing Kamala Harris (or whomever would actually be running things behind the scenes in a Joe Biden presidency, since he's obviously not capable of dong the job) to nominate a Supreme Court justice for a lifetime appointment, instead of giving Trump the chance to name a constitutional originalist. And odds are they'd side with Democrats to approve a Biden appointee.

I've felt from the start that McConnell mishandled the 2016 situation. Instead of sitting on the Garland nomination, he should have allowed the Senate to vote on it. But he was probably afraid that he couldn't keep the Republican caucus together to reject Garland or any other Obama nominee. Romney wasn't in the Senate then, but Murkowski, the late John McCain, Susan Collins, and a number of other squishy RINOs/COINs were. Even Lindsey Graham, who's emerged as an unlikely Trump ally, indicated that he would have been inclined to vote for Garland's confirmation. So there's certainly no indication that a GOP-controlled Senate in a Biden/Harris administration could be counted on to hold the line. Too many Republicans, especially a majority of those in the Senate, are of the "go along to get along" mentality, and it's why conservatives have such contempt for the establishment. It speaks volumes that McConnell is disliked by conservatives more than he is liberals.

My preference on a nominee? Of course, I like Ted Cruz. He's the personification of a constitutionalist. But I still want him to be president someday. Truth be told, I wish he was president now. And he's indicated he prefers to remain in the Senate, which is probably the best place from which to launch another future presidential bid.

Not knowing that RBG would die scant days later, Trump recently released a short list of potential appointees. In remarks since RBG's death, he's indicated that he will appoint a female to the seat. Amy Coney Barrett, a federal appellate judge, Scalia protege, and Notre Dame law professor, is frequently mentioned. Trump's list got a lot of attention in the Bluegrass State because it included Attorney General Daniel Cameron, but there's little chance Cameron will be considered. He's still early in his career and is being groomed to replace McConnell in the Senate when he likely retires during or after his next and final term.

(Possible scenario: McConnell goes all-in on the 2023 Kentucky governor's race, with the expectation that if the GOP ousts Andy Beshear, Cameron will be appointed to fill the vacancy when McConnell announces his departure from the Senate.)

But the fact remains, the circumstances surrounding this year's Supreme Court vacancy are vastly different than those from four years ago. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. There's nothing hypocritical about the way McConnell is handling this situation. And given that it's rare for me to praise anything McConnell does, that's saying something.

Why court protests shouldn't matter

Tomorrow morning (Thursday, Sept. 17), the Kentucky Supreme Court takes up a very important case. The court will be hearing oral arguments on a lawsuit that challenges the legality of several of the executive orders Gov. Andy Beshear has issued since the first Wuhan Chinese virus case was reported in Kentucky in March.

The governor argues that his actions have been necessary to save lives. The plaintiffs in the cases, which were originally two separate actions filed in Scott County and northern Kentucky but were consolidated for purposes of the appeal due to their similar issues, say that no matter how well-intentioned the governor's edicts have been, that doesn't matter because he exceeded his authority as outlined in the federal and state constitutions.

A protest rally has been scheduled tomorrow morning to coincide with the hearing. And while I agree with the plaintiffs that the governor's executive orders have been outside the scope of his legal authority -- and I further believe that the actions have been unnecessary overkill that have strangled the state's economy to the point where it may never recover at the cost of essential freedoms and liberties -- I don't agree with the premise behind the protest.

"We need a massive turnout of patriots at 9:30 a.m. at the capitol to show the court Kentuckians have had enough! This will influence the court's decision," states one promotional effort for the rally.

This is where I disagree. Courts should never rule on any case based on public opinion. Their judgments should solely be on the facts of the matter and the applicable laws and constitutional provisions.

We've all seen the footage of protestors in Washington, D.C., anytime the Supreme Court takes up a controversial case. We saw it in Kentucky a few years ago when federal courts were hearing matters dealing with former Rowan County Clerk Kim Davis' refusal to issue marriage licenses to same-sex couples. It's long been my belief that these protests are futile. As they should be. The Constitution is not subject to public opinion. So, why should its application be based on public whims?

There's also been a letter-writing campaign to contact Supreme Court justices to urge them to rule a certain way on this case. It's a safe bet that most of those writing are not lawyers, so they can't speak to the issues in an informed manner that centers on constitutional issues. They can only offer lay opinions. Attorneys could, of course, offer amicus (friend of the court) briefs if they so desired, but only one has been entered, from Senate President (and attorney) Robert Stivers.

Judges are unique government officials. In Kentucky, Court of Appeals and Supreme Court members are elected on non-partisan ballots, from districts that look as if a drunk monkey drew them on the map. Most of them make less sense, geographically or socioeconomically, than does the state's 1st Congressional District, which stretches from the Mississippi River all the way to the Appalachian Mountains and was drawn 30 years ago for political reasons to keep Owensboro (Daviess County) and Bowling Green (Warren County) in the same district. (An abbreviated explanation for that can be found in the penultimate paragraph here.) Federal judicial appointments are also often emphasized in presidential and senatorial elections. So it's naive to assume that partisan or ideological factors don't come into play, especially when in Kentucky, an elected judge or justice that makes an unpopular decision can find themselves with an opponent the next time they're on the ballot. That seems to be the pressure that's being put to bear on the Supreme Court justices as they hear Beshear's challenge to lower court orders that struck down some of his executive decisions.

Lots of people I've come to know and respect over the last couple of years are promoting the protest and are urging people to attend. While I hope for the same judicial outcome as they do, I hope they'll understand why I can't join them in supporting this action. If the ends don't justify the means for the governor's executive orders, they also don't justify the attempts to influence what's supposed to be an impartial decision based on constitutional principles. I'll be praying for a certain outcome, but I won't be rallying for that outcome. To do so would violate my ideals as a constitutional conservative.

Some very capable attorneys are handling the case against Beshear's orders. Chris Wiest, in particular, has been extremely effective. He's spanked the administration in every case in which he's been involved, including at least one administrative action that isn't public knowledge. Attorney General Daniel Cameron may have been late to the game in pursuing legal action, but he's been on point with his arguments once he did join the fray.  They will be bolstered by a federal court decision, handed down just this week, invalidating many of Pennsylvania's executive orders. The plaintiffs have offered hard-hitting briefs in support of their positions, and have practiced and are ready for the oral arguments. They'll make a persuasive case. We have to have confidence in them that they'll convince the Supreme Court justices of the constitutionality of their positions.

Justice should never be meted out based on public outcry, especially if it comes at the expense of the facts or of due process of law. It would be wrong for Cameron to pursue criminal charges against the Louisville police officers involved in the death of Brionna Taylor simply because of loud, visible protests. It would be equally wrong for the Supreme Court to rule based on a crowd of protesters gathered outside while they're hearing the case.

I realize the foregoing opinion will not be popular in "reopen our economy and let's get society back to normal" circles, of which I'm a member. But it's the only logical opinion I can have, based on my principles and ideological beliefs.

Clearing up some misconceptions about some misconceptions

There's been quite a bit of misinformation, and a lot of misconceptions, floating around over the Wuhan Chinese virus.

No, not the stuff that typically gets flagged or censored on social media -- such as when doctors tout the effectiveness of hydroxychloroquine in treating the virus -- but in what people mean when they make certain statements.

As usual, liberals have twisted some statements made by those who don't view the world the same way they do to try to make it sound as if others are making outlandish remarks that are severely distanced from reality, when such isn't the case at all.

Let's take a look at a few of them and deconstruct the remarks. It's time to delineate what the speakers are implying and what some are inferring.

"The virus is a hoax."

I know of no one who doesn't believe that the virus is real, and that it's harmful. By now, most of us probably know someone who's contracted the virus. I personally am acquainted with at least four people who've had it or tested positive for it.

When someone says the virus is a hoax, they aren't saying they don't believe the virus is real. What they're saying is that they don't think the virus merits the over-the-top response that so many states have instituted. They don't think a disease with a survivability rate of 99.96 percent is cause to choke a thriving economy, kill businesses, and restrict everyday activities to the point of pain. They're saying that they believe the virus is being exploited for various reasons, social and political reasons being two of them.

Need evidence? Just look at the adjustments that have been made to the election process this year. Liberals have long advocated for expanded universal mail-in voting and lengthening the timeframe for early voting. They've actually found willing co-conspirators in Republicans like Kentucky Secretary of State Michael Adams, who seems to know but not care that his actions have cost him support among the GOP base that got him elected over a better-known opponent (former Miss America Heather French Henry). The irony here is that early voting probably cost the far left their wet-dream U.S. Senate candidate, Charles Booker, his primary race against Amy McGrath for the nomination to oppose Mitch McConnell this fall.

"Never let a crisis go to waste," former Obama administration official Rahm Emanuel famously once said. That's been evident in how officials have responded to the Chinese virus.

People are intelligent enough to make their own decisions on how far to go to protect themselves and their loved ones from the virus. The idea that they can't process available information and come to a reasoned determination is the true hoax in this matter.

"The virus will disappear after the election."

Sure, it seems like there are some who believe the virus is an sentient, intelligent organism. It spreads at small retailers but not at huge big-box chain stores. It spreads at churches and parties, but not at protests. And it only spreads at certain types of protests (such as rallies to reopen businesses) but not others (Black Lives Matter and Antifa demonstrations). In Kentucky, it only spreads in bars and restaurants after 10 p.m., which is why those establishments are now operating under curfews.

At least that's the impression one might get after reviewing various government edicts in response to the virus. The seeming arbitrary standards are the basis of a court case, to be heard later this week in the Kentucky Supreme Court, that could strike down most of the governor's executive orders that have been issued since March.

But no one truly believes that the virus is going to magically go away after Nov. 3. Liberals like to make fun of conservatives who voice that sentiment, claiming that they really believe people think that.

Therein lies another misconception. Of course, no one believes that the virus can read a calendar and keeps up with the news and knows when Election Day is.

The motive behind this statement is that the virus is being used for political reasons, and after the election is over, its dominance in the headlines will fade because it will no longer be an issue for the voters. Referencing Emanuel's quote about letting a crisis go to waste, the opportunity to use the virus for political means will be past, so the public can expect to hear a whole lot less about it.

This virus is probably going to be around from now on. We've had centuries to work on a cure for the common cold, but that hasn't turned out so well. The virus won't disappear, but its usefulness among those of a certain ideological mindset will diminish.

No, silly leftists, we don't believe the virus is just going to go away. Don't act like we're too dumb to know that.  We just know that it won't be as hot of a topic after Election Day as it is now.

"People aren't really dying of the virus."

There are plenty of other misconceptions out there as well. One of the most offensive is "coronavirus deaths aren't real." That one's gaining traction because of recent reports that only 6 percent of reported deaths are directly attributable to the virus alone; the other 94 percent of reported fatalities have other causes, and the virus may or may not have been a contributing factor.

Look at it like this. Let's say I have cancer. (I don't). But I succumb to a fatal heart attack. I didn't die FROM cancer. I died WITH cancer. There is a difference.

Similarly, there's a distinction to be made between someone who dies FROM the virus and someone who dies WITH the virus. By now we've all seen reports of those who perish in fatal vehicle accidents, but who tested positive for the virus, being listed as having died of it.

There's a benefit to having high death numbers. Politicians use those figures to justify their dictatorial edicts curtailing businesses and restricting everyday activities. And the more cynical will point to federal relief funds that flow to governments and health care facilities for every virus death.

All deaths are sad. They are very real to the relatives and friends of the deceased. No one is making light of those deaths when they question the numbers. Yet Kentucky Gov. Andy Beshear recently accused some state legislators of doing just that when they queried state officials during a committee hearing and the 94-6 statistic was brought up.

Don't let these misconceptions go unchallenged. Don't let someone call you a science denier if you say the hype around the virus is a hoax, that it's being used as an election issue and its dominance of the headlines will fade after November, or that it's not as deadly as some say it is. You have the facts on your side. Don't let their interpretation of your wording of your thoughts sway you. You don't really believe the virus will vanish after the election. If the left thinks you do, that says more about them than it does about you.

A missed GOPportunity: Republicans should have held normal convention in South Dakota

As the live-via-video Republican National Convention continues this week, coming on the heels of the similar event held last week by the Socialists of America, perhaps it's appropriate to remind conservative and right-leaning voters of what could have transpired.

Call it "a missed GOPportunity," if you want.

The stories about the altered state of the convention are well-known. The GOP convention was originally scheduled to be held as a traditional event in Charlotte, N.C. However, the Republicans changed their plans after North Carolina Gov. Roy Cooper, a Democrat, wouldn't allow them to hold the event as planned. Something about being scared of a Chinese virus with a mortality rate of 0.04 percent, they said.

So the Republicans decided to relocate the event to Jacksonville, Fla., but a virus outbreak in the Sunshine State alarmed party officials enough to scuttle those plans.

The result is the convention taking place in locations scattered all across the globe -- Secretary of State Mike Pompeo addressed it from Israel -- either by remote live video appearances, or through taped videos. First Lady Melania Trump spoke from the White House last night, as the president is scheduled to do Thursday.

The effect is certainly not the same as a live and in-person convention. Applause lines are nowhere to be found. Speakers who raise their voices, as they would in a speech before a live audience in a packed arena, are criticized and ridiculed. And television coverage, both by the major broadcast networks and the cable news and commentary outlets, has been significantly scaled back. For example, NBC had a talking head discussing mail-in voting shortly after their 10 p.m. coverage commenced Tuesday night while Kentucky Attorney General Daniel Cameron was speaking.

It didn't have to be this way. Republicans blew a great opportunity to hold a normal convention while at the same time recognizing one of the leaders in how this country has responded to the Wuhan Chinese virus.

South Dakota, with GOP Gov. Kristi Noem at the helm, has been a shining star in how to handle the "kung flu." There have been no directed business closures. No mask mandates. No panic or overreaction. She has trusted her state's residents to make their own decisions on how to respond to the disease. Compared to most other states, especially Kentucky, South Dakota is thriving. Isolated outbreaks such as in commercial or industrial settings were dealt with either corporately or locally. There were no statewide edicts or orders.

While annual and one-time big events have been canceled, postponed, or restricted nationwide, South Dakota has pushed on. Two of the biggest national happenings  of the year -- an Independence Day fireworks show at which President Trump spoke, and the annual Sturgis motorcycle rally -- went off without a hitch. If those events could take place, why couldn't a Republican convention have been held in South Dakota?

Moving the RNC to the Mount Rushmore State could have accomplished several goals. South Dakota isn't exactly on the beaten path; it's really too far north to be considered "flyover country." Mount Rushmore, the Black Hills, and the Badlands are its best-known features and tourist attractions. Holding the convention there could have shined a spotlight on an often-overlooked state, provided a huge economic boost, and acknowledged and rewarded Gov. Noem for her exemplary conduct during the virus outbreak. Plus, it would have allowed the Republicans to show that they aren't hiding in fear the way the Democrats did in changing their convention. Contrasts between the two parties in how to handle challenges and crises would have been on full display -- the GOP rushes in unafraid to take on the task without hesitation, while Democrats cower in fear and send in videos.

But courage hasn't exactly been in ample supply even among Republicans the last several months. Look at the differences between Noem and Ohio's Mike DeWine. The latter has governed as a liberal Democrat this year, and it's really no surprise that legislators in his own party are pushing for his impeachment.

Republican party officials could have shown confidence and courage, while recognizing and rewarding an outstanding governor, by moving their meetup to South Dakota. The state may not have a city the size of a Charlotte or a Jacksonville, but surely an appropriate venue could have been found in Sioux Falls, Rapid City, or the capital city of Pierre. Parts of the convention could still have been done remotely or virtually, but there was still an opportunity for a decent-sized in-person gathering so enthusiasm could have been generated for this fall's vital election. Trump feeds off live audiences, and they in turn draw motivation and energy from his remarks.

This year's event is a poor substitute for what could have been. As noted above, a missed GOPportunity. Hopefully it won't come back to bite the Republicans as November draws closer.

Asking the wrong questions

A minor kerfuffle sprang up over the weekend when news broke that Gov. Andy Beshear would be dismissing Warren Beeler from his position as head of the Governor's Office for Agricultural Policy.

Beeler is well-known in Kentucky agricultural circles. He's said to be a Democrat who has held both merit (career civil service) and non-merit (political appointment) state government positions, including serving as GOAP director under Republican Gov. Matt Bevin.

As a political appointee, he serves at the pleasure of the governor. And Beshear is certainly well within his rights to replace Beeler with someone of his own choosing. While a number of appointees were replaced shortly after Beshear took office in December, a number of others are continuing to serve in their positions. Some served under Beshear's father and continued that service under Bevin.

While many are questioning Beshear's decision to remove Beeler, they're not asking the right question. Instead of wondering why the governor is replacing the GOAP director, they should be asking why the Governor's Office of Agricultural Policy even exists.

The GOAP was created in 1998, during the Paul Patton administration, mainly to distribute proceeds from the tobacco settlement (caution: Wikipedia link, believe what you read there at your own peril). Employees from all across the Executive Branch were temporarily detailed to the project to process claims. I was working for the agency formerly known as the Revenue Cabinet at the time, and my supervisor was sent to an office on the other side of Frankfort for a few months to participate.

Why this task had to be carried out by an entirely new bureaucracy instead of through existing channels is not exactly known. And there definitely was, and is, an agency already established that could very easily handle what the GOAP does.

The Kentucky Department of Agriculture is unique in that it's the only department whose commissioner is elected as a statewide constitutional officer instead of being politically appointed by the governor. Commissioners of Local Government, Revenue, Highways, etc. -- all are non-merit employees who are appointed to their positions. But not Agriculture. And unlike most of the other constitutional offices that were part of the old "musical chairs" game that politicians used to play when statewide elected officials were limited to four-year terms and unable to succeed themselves, agriculture commissioners never really used the position as a springboard to higher office. (Notable exceptions are the most recent commissioners, Jamie Comer, who's now in Congress after a failed run for governor in 2015; and Richie Farmer, who was David Williams' running mate in their unsuccessful 2011 gubernatorial bid.) Indeed, a look through the list of past commissioners reveals very few familiar names. Outside of Comer and Farmer, the most recognizable name is Alben Barkley II, grandson of the former vice president for whom the lake in western Kentucky is named.

The agriculture commissioner during Patton's term was Billy Ray Smith. Like Patton, he was a Democrat. There were no reports of friction between Patton and Smith the way there were Barkley and Gov. John Y. Brown. So there's never really been a good explanation of why Kentucky established the GOAP instead of letting the Department of Agriculture handle the tobacco settlement claims and grants.

There is, however, tension between Beshear and current Commissioner Ryan Quarles. Quarles is the plaintiff in a lawsuit that challenges Beshear's Wuhan Chinese virus executive orders as they relate to businesses licensed by the agriculture department, and Quarles is also frequently mentioned as a possible candidate for governor in 2023. That still doesn't explain why Bevin, a Republican like Quarles, kept GOAP intact.

Here lies an opportunity for the state to save some money, particularly if the GOP-controlled General Assembly wants to strike back at Beshear for the way he's handled the virus response. Due to time constraints and uncertain finances, the legislature passed only a one-year budget instead of the normal two-year biennial budget. They're set to address the budget for the upcoming fiscal year when they reconvene this winter. It's being said that due to decreased tax revenues because of Beshear's business shutdowns, substantial cuts will be required. Why shouldn't GOAP be a starting point? As director, Beeler makes $95,000 a year. There are probably lots of other expenditures related to that office as well. Perhaps the legislature should look into dismantling that duplicative office and transferring its duties to the existing Department of Agriculture.

Government has always been inefficiently run. Multiple agencies often have similar roles when the duties could be rolled into one office. Here's a prime chance for something to be done and money saved.

This isn't, and shouldn't be, about Warren Beeler. He's earned praise from agriculture leaders and politicians from both parties. And, as noted, the governor has every right to appoint people of his own choosing to leadership positions. What it should be about is the fact that we have two agencies devoted to agriculture when we could, and should, have only one office, the one that's designated by the state constitution to deal with farming interests.

Don't lament Beeler's dismissal. Instead, lament the fact that for more than two decades, we've wasted money on an office that isn't needed in the first place.

Are we waiting for a day that will never come?

Those of us who are ready for life to get back to normal -- not some bastardized version of a "new normal" where everyone wears masks and everyday activities are severely curtailed or restricted -- have every reason to be pessimistic.

There seems to be no end in sight for government mandates that limit life. Restaurants and bars are restricted in the number of customers they can serve. Executive orders limit the number of people who can attend private gatherings in homes or on private property. Public schools are "encouraged" to be closed, and those whose local governing bodies choose to reopen are threatened with retribution from the state. Some states force you to stay home for two weeks if you travel from certain other states. Only a precious few states, like South Dakota, are actually bastions of freedom in the "land of the free and the home of the brave."

But even if every onerous, overreaching government restriction was lifted tomorrow, is there any path to normal?

Government decrees might disappear, but businesses can and will impose restrictions. For instance, Kentucky's limits on the number of people from one family who can shop at a store have been repealed, but some retailers are still not letting more than a certain number of people inside their businesses at one time. It's not uncommon to have to stand in line outside at the Jackson Walmart, and to be let inside the store only after someone leaves.

And it continues. Some businesses require masks of all customers and they don't even recognize the enumerated exceptions contained in executive orders. Hours of operation are severely curtailed. Walmarts that used to be open 24 hours per day now close at 8:30 p.m. Many sporting events don't allow spectators, with the postponed Kentucky Derby being the latest one to ban fans. Restaurants take your temperature before you're seated. Aisles are marked "one way" and "do not enter." You have to wait in your vehicle before you're called in to see the veterinarian or have your hair cut. Some businesses don't accept cash and require you to pay with a card or an app on your phone. Colleges threaten students who attend parties with punishment, and are planning to limit attendance at football games and prohibit tailgating. Funerals are limited to only the closest relatives. Churches continue to remain closed to in-person worship and instead do online or drive-in services.

This isn't normal. None of it is normal. And it shouldn't be acceptable.

Not during any of the previous pandemics (H1N1 swine flu, ebola, SARS, and the 1918 Spanish flu outbreak that is most often compared to the current situation) were these extreme measures put in place for an extended period of time. How many months are we now into of what was supposed to be "15 days to flatten the curve?"

And what happens the next time we get another severe outbreak of the seasonal flu, when the "experts" get it totally wrong and the annual vaccine proves to be worthless, as it often does? Are we going to have to undergo all of this all over again?

Life isn't without risks. You put yourself in danger every time you leave the house, you get into an automobile, or basically do anything else other than exist in a bubble. Most of us realize that and are willing to accept the risks to live life normally. Those who have fears take outsized precautions to keep themselves safe. They don't go out to eat, or go to the movies, or go to church. Kudos to them. If that's how they want to live; if that's what they want to be normal; then no one is stopping them.

But those of us who truly want to live normally don't have that option. And those who want to earn a living still don't completely have that option. There's no place for a waiter or waitress in a restaurant that only offers carryout service. You can't take tickets or sell popcorn if the sporting venues and theaters are closed.

Are we waiting for a day that will never come? Is society to be forever altered because of the fears of some? It's looking increasingly as if that's going to be the case. As the government keeps extending mandates and telling us we may need to wear masks for the foreseeable future, and as businesses don't relax their voluntary restrictions when the government finally does take its foot off their necks, normal life appears to be slipping farther from our grasp with each passing day.