NIXON ... achieving a great human dream. We live in an unsettled time. Who are our enemies? Who are our friends? The Eastern Hemisphere beckoned to us, and we have flown east of the sun, west of the moon across an ocean of distrust filled with the bodies of our lost; the earth's Sea of Tranquillity. It's prime time in the U.S.A. yesterday night. They watch us now; the three main networks' colors glow livid through drapes onto the lawn. Dishes are washed and homework done, the dog and grandma fall asleep, a car roars past playing loud pop, is gone. As I look down the road I know America is good at heart. An old cold warrior piloting towards an unknown shore through shoals. The rats begin to chew the sheets. There's murmuring bellow. Now there's ingratitude! My hand is steady as a rock. A sound like mourning doves reaches my ears, nobody is a friend of ours.
** Let's face it. If we don't succeed on this summit, our name is mud. We're not out of the woods, not yet. **
The nation's heartland skips a beat as our hands shield the spinning globe from the flame throwers of the mob. We must press on. We know we want... What?... Oh yes...