DREAMS FROM MY MOTHER, BUT THOSE DREAMS WERE FROM GOOD OLD NORTH AMERICA.

      To hear Barack Obama reflect back to the days of his father, it sounds like the dreams his father had for the rest of the world are the dreams he wishes to honor for Americans, even though his father really didn't grow up or live here for any decent length of time. So were his dreams more suitable to South Africa rather than here?
      What were his dreams for and when did he dream them. Talking about his Dad's grave and the desire to carry out his wishes and looking at his Dad's grave as he demonstrates in a video, how could his dreams have been to the benefit of North America? If in his dreams it meant the taking down of America piece by piece to the equivalent of South Africa, I think I can speak for Canadian and American citizens in saying "WE DON'T WANT THOSE DREAMS!!"
      We North Americans have always been able to live by our own realistic dreams and our success or failures were totally left up to us.
      Barack, you weren't brought up in a poor family even though you were surrounded by cardboard shacks at times. If you ate dog a few times, as you say you did, it  was because you were inspired to do so. Not because you had to. You never had to ask someone else for food in order to survive, you were always well fed and taken care of. It was your Muslim friends who did, but not you. Your anti-American White Grandparents raised you with you having very little support by your drunken father if any. He was nothing to brag about, but neither was mine. He was a drunk, left over from WW1.
      I'll tell you what it's like to be brought up in a poor environment.
      My family was poor. Poor to the extent that due to being born to a family of eleven from a man only home long enough to produce another child and then leave again, there was no income. Thank goodness most of the 8 boys were born ahead of the girls. It was a small coal mining town deep in the Great Depression. It was all too common to see our mother cook oatmeal mush for breakfast and enough so that there was extra to fry oatmeal paddies to feed us at lunch and dinner time along with fried potatoes grown in our short summertime garden. At times she sat beside us at the kitchen window gazing out as we ate what we had. Too often as well, we realized she missed her dinner because there wasn't enough. The only meat we had was wild venison from the animals that were native to our region. My brothers and sisters will agree with what I'm telling you. At times, she would break down and cry with shear despair but with no manly shoulder to cry on. It was tough, but my mother had a dream. A dream that as we grew, we would leave for distant horizons and make something of ourselves. As we grew our first wish was to look at our town in the rear view mirror. That is, those of us who could afford to purchase an old car at the time. That's what it's like to be poor, Barack.
        We pursued our dreams and they came true in one fashion or another. It all depended on how hard we tried. Some of us voted for different parties, but in those days they all led to freedom of choice and regardless of the dominant parties in power we, along with all of Canada and the U.S. succeeded in forming the greatest Continent in the world, bar none. I was no prize, but I did as good as I wanted to be.
        Please, Barack!! Pack up your B.S. and go back where you belong. You have no idea how to keep this country great nor do I think you want to. So far, all you've done is empty the coffers for the sake of yourself and the "Well Oiled Regime."  I see no resemblance between the dreams from your father and my Saintly mother who left this world peacefully at the age of 99, satisfied she honestly tried and succeeded. She was a perfect example of what it really takes to make this country great. Just Sayin'.