If you have read my previous blogs, you know I don’t have the best luck with written correspondence, my pen pal dumped me and my nephew really let me know what he thought about the present I got him for his birthday. However, I prefer criticism over being ignored and that’s why I’m bitter that Richard Nixon never wrote me back. Why did I write Nixon? Well it’s sorta a long story. I’ve always been somewhat fascinated by the 37th President of our country, although I can’t really say why. I was born while he was in office and some of my earliest memories were sitting with my dad watching Nixon on the news. He scared me, like Dracula or Frankenstein, but my dad was very conservative and a supporter so I watched intently. I wanted to understand why people liked him enough to vote him into office. This is probably the point where I should add I was a weird kid. My mom was born in Holland, raised in Indonesia, during WWII she survived the Japanese occupation in a concentration camp but her parents did not, she struggled greatly to be able to take care of herself, immigrated to the U.S., met my dad and moved to Las Cruces, NM where she had me. My mom had a lot of fear and understandably so, she also had me later in life which meant a big age difference, plus she had no idea what it was like to live a normal childhood, and she taught me English with a Dutch accent. I loved my mom, but through no fault of her own, she made it so I had a lot of fear and that I had a hard time fitting in with other kids....