Check out this girl from Berkley. She is one of the many people in this country who are finally waking up. http://www.americanthinker.com/2010/04/a_funny_thing_happened_on_my_w.html There are moments when life crashes down on you like a thunderbolt. And ready or not, you change. There's a before and an after. One moment, you're one way. And then, in the blink of an eye, you're different. An instant before my parents died, I still felt like a child, though I was knee-deep in middle age. But when they passed, three weeks apart, suddenly I grew up...just like that. While that experience was seismic, it doesn't compare to my sea change upon Obama's ascension. One minute I was a leftist, despising this country and all it stood for. And then, abruptly and astonishingly, I became a conservative. I had been enamored of progressivism, socialism, all the other "isms." But when Obama came on the scene and liberals starting acting like maniacs, I viewed the underbelly of the Left. And that was it. In the blink of an eye, I saw that liberalism had rotted away. In time, I discovered that progressivism was a bogus idea to begin with. The Left had captivated me with its grandiose schemes. It was a no-brainer to believe that humans -- that is, educated, erudite, city folks -- could perfect the world. And now, two years into recovery, I'm still waking up from the world's worst hangover. Each day, I shake my head in wonderment: "What in the world was I thinking?" Each day, I'm sucker-punched by the people whom I had trusted -- the Nancy Pelosis and Obamas of the world. I thought that Leftists were mini-messiahs who would save me. They are, in fact, "power-hungry, delusional demigods," as Mark Levin put it so pithily. And the most recent aftershock: ObamaCare. It's horrifying that the Left would ram this law through against the expressed will of the American people. Our Founding Fathers would be incredulous to see who we've become. Our government resembles the monarchy that they fought hard to escape. We've become a country with little humility or honor. We're a place of demands and gripes and gimme-gimme. Illegals demand citizenship, aggrieved groups demand "justice," and millions want something for nothing. With all this hollering and demanding, it matters little how this power is amassed. If the Constitution is trashed, if the working person is bled dry, so what? The nation is engaged in one big, collective temper tantrum. Out of this moral abyss comes Obama. No ordinary Democrat like Bill or Hillary or the Johns (Kerry and Edwards) would do. It had to be someone like Obama. Raised by morally deficient people, Obama was spotted and groomed early on. The Left's movers and shakers recognized Obama's potential. They simply observed how Obama behaved in Chicago -- for instance, his seamless alliance with the corrupt slumlord Tony Rezko. Obama force-feeds the public a cornucopia of leftist schemes. If he skirts the Constitution or dispatches SEIU thugs, that's okay by him. With the radicals in charge of the henhouse, I should be dancing in the streets. I should be all Vive la Revolution. But a funny thing happened on my way to the revolution. That lightning bolt hit, and I changed forever. And now I see that that progressivism is simply children acting out, thumbing their noses at Mommy and Daddy and God Himself. This explains the perpetual temper tantrums and the lost, vacant looks. While kids are naturally self-centered, when adults behave this way, they're narcissists. Growing up means no longer placing oneself at the center of the universe. It requires facing the facts: This existence is unfair and imperfect. No human being, no matter how charismatic, can change the nature of reality. A few years before my parents died, I decided to let go of the resentment that I had been carrying. First, I threw away all of my journals that detailed childhood injustices. Then I sat down and wrote each of my parents a letter of appreciation. In doing so, I chucked my protracted grievances, the resentments that had formed my identity. The letters must have meant a lot to my parents. Even though they disliked saving anything, the letters were among their possessions after they passed away. There's another thank-you letter I should have penned years ago -- to the United States, a country I have failed to appreciate for most of my life. Here goes: Dear America: Thank you for allowing a fresh start to my immigrant grandparents, so dirt poor in Russia that my starving grandmother would cry at the sight of bread in a store window. Thank you for the American Dream, so I could travel across the country and start anew in California. Thank you for the countless opportunities, like being able to attend graduate school. Thank you for the many freedoms, such as the ability to protest and malign you. I apologize for denigrating you for so many years. This is my belated letter of thanks to the country I have grown to cherish. It's a love letter of sorts. I pray that it isn't a eulogy.