Jim Webb is everyone's crazy uncle

When I moved to Virginia in 1984 I was returning to the home of my ancestors. My ancestors were honest hardworking people who lived in places ranging from Jamestown to Goochland county. My great x 3 grandfather built outside of Cartersville, Virginia in 1750 and lived their until carpetbaggers tried to take their home and land. My great-great grandfather hoodwinked them with land swaps, was able to sneak his saw mill out under the cover of darkness and moved the family to lands granted other family members by Lord Fairfax in Ohio. They had lived in Virginia for over 220 years.

In 1984, Ronald Reagan invited us then still young people to be part of the Reagan Revolution and I answered the call. I worked on Capitol Hill and lived in Dumfries just south of the Occoquan. I loved Virginia. It felt like home.

James Webb seemed quite the dashing man as he rose through the Reagan administration. I read his books, read and saw him on the Hill and Webb appeared brash and good for what ailed the military in a post Carter world.

The Jim Webb I saw on the campaign trail for one of the Virginia senate seats this last election was a caricature of the James Webb I saw during the Reagan years. Reagan, supposedly one of Webb's favorite Presidents, would be ashamed to be seen with Webb today. The Gipper believed Teddy and spoke quietly while carrying a big stick. Webb talks loudly and totes a small mindedness.

"How's your boy?" Bush asked, referring to Webb's son, a Marine serving in
Iraq.

"I'd like to get them out of Iraq, Mr. President," Webb responded,
echoing a campaign theme.

"That's not what I asked you," Bush said. "How's your boy?"

"That's between me and my boy, Mr. President," Webb said coldly, ending
the conversation on the State Floor of the East Wing of the White House.

Jimmy Webb hasn't even been sworn in yet and has already become an embarassment.

h/t Power Line