Image Image Image Image Image Image Image Image Image


03 May



The Business of the NFL: Growing a Customer Base

May 3, 2006 | By | 3 Comments


Coach Will Lee

giving a life lesson We were anticipating watching the National Football League draft. Then THE CALL comes. From the NFL. They want The Dude. Charmaine and I were ecstatic!

And relieved. I had already spent his signing bonus.

But I wasn’t expecting THE CALL so soon. The Dude’s only eleven.


Junior Player DevelopmentThey suggested The Dude come out for something called Junior Player Development. JPD. Sponsored by the NFL. For kids about to enter junior high school.

No signing bonus.

The program is designed to get the young people ready for life. But it gets me ready for football. With my boys.

Lifetime customers. For the NFL. And everyone wins.


Warm up drills;

emphasis on discipline There are 160 young players at the Laurel, Maryland site. Notice the individual player bags in the background. Dress/Right/Dress. In a straight line. A Drill Sergeant would be proud.


The Dude on the field The 21 coaches at this site take this seriously. And so does the NFL. Each coach goes through an extensive background check and 60 hours of training.

The JPD football camp is a three week program. At no cost. All equipment is provided at no cost. Retail price on a comparable camp would range from 600 to 1,000 dollars. An NFL investment. In the kids’ character.

My guess is that the NFL does not want to become anything like the NBA.


Motivational cardsThe NFL learning points are handed out to each player as a take away.

The NFL pro’s are, well, pro’s. They have outlined

The 7 Guiding Principles of NFL Youth Programs. Adults should use them. Businesses should use them,

1. Make It Fun This is the primary objective and cornerstone of the entire philosophy.

2. Limit Standing Around Many professional coaches put a major emphasis on fast paced and interactive practices that eliminate downtime.

3. Everyone Plays Football at the youth level should be an inclusive experience.

4. Teach Every Position To Every Participant Don’t pigeonhole kids in one particular position because of their physical size and/or ability.

5. Emphasize The Fundamentals Build a foundation that will never crack by properly teaching the basics.

6. Incorporate A Progression Of Skill Development For Every Participant Regardless of a player’s skill level, it is your responsibility as a youth football coach to teach every kid on your team.

7.Yell Encouragement, Whisper Constructive Criticism Keep it positive. As a youth football coach you should never tolerate negative comments from your players, parents, coaching staff.


Coach Will begins and ends each

practice with a life lessonCoach William E. Lee is the site manager. He’s worked with the NFL’s JPD for seven years. He tells the young athletes, “My life is your life.” The youngsters know the coaches care. Coach Will emphasizes obedience to make “A good impression of who you are.”

This isn’t that feel-good self-esteem nonsense taught in some public schools.

These kids are knocking the snot out of each other.

And when the helmets crash, you should hear the yelling and whooping. From the parents.

There is hope for America yet. Coach Will and the NFL and the kids. God Bless them.

So we didn’t get drafted and didn’t get the big money. But our boy is getting character development — something better that will last for generations to come…

…I’m still getting an agent.


Was this helpful? Do comment.

Consider a subscription.

Thank you (foot)notes:

For more on youth football, see Winning With Your Heart. And visit Laurel Hurricanes Maryland State Champions.

Looking for a cool web site’s navigation to copy? Visit the NFL. Even if you don’t like football as content, you’ll like everything else.

More at the jump.

Read More

A Wise Old Man: Henry Hyde

April 29, 2006 | By | No Comments


Henry Hyde “What do you want to be when you grow up?” is asked of children. And adults.

As for Your Business Blogger? When I grow up? I want to be a Wise Old Man.

Just like Henry Hyde. (He’s made fewer mistakes than me.)

Charmaine and Your Business Blogger saw Congressman Hyde again at a DC event this week at the Willard. He was being honored by the National Right to Life Committee (NRLC).

Hyde, the 82-year old Chairman of the House Foreign Affairs Committee, is a warhorse who sometimes bucked his own party.

Tony Perkins of the Family Research Council wrote,

When he first introduced his amendment to cut off federal funding of almost all abortions in the immediate aftermath of Roe v. Wade, it seemed to many people in the political world that abortion was “settled law.” Both Houses of Congress were firmly in the hands of liberals who supported abortion. Even the Republican Ford administration had decided that the federal government should pay for abortions–because the Supreme Court had ruled them legal.

Henry Hyde would rather be right than be popular.

Maybe life isn’t like high school.

Henry Hyde does what we all want to do: Make a difference.


Was this helpful? Do comment.

Consider a free eMail subscription for this site.

Thank you (foot)notes:

Be sure to sign up for the Family Research Council email newsletter.

More on NRLC at the jump.

Read More

22 Apr



Mr. Yoest's 10 Simple Rules for Dating My Daughters

April 22, 2006 | By | 8 Comments

My Dating Rules version. With thanks to and permission from W. Bruce Cameron the originator.

Update: Yes, Cameron is still alive. John Ritter has passed on. (Roman Polanski has not. Life is not fair.)

Mr. Yoest’s Ten Simple Rules for Dating My Daughters

Rule One:

If you pull into my driveway and honk you’d better be delivering a package, because you’re sure not picking anything up.

Rule Two:

You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter’s body, I will remove them.

8 Simple Rules for

Dating My Daughter

by W. Bruce Cameron Rule Three:

I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don’t take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose his compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of the date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

Rule Four:

I’m sure you’ve been told that in today’s world, sex without using a “barrier method” of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

Rule Five:

It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is “early.”

Rule Six:

I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with one of my little girls, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. You might have heard about her other two sisters, but you will not look. If you make her cry, I make you cry.

Rule Seven:

As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don’t you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule Eight:

The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are sofas, beds, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and my old Army Field Jacket – zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature power tools are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.

Rule Nine:

Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a middle-aged, gray-headed, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and a half acre behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten:

Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to drift back a few years to my Army days and mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a hostile vehicle. Whenever I hear engines at night, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the weapons, probably as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Announce the perimeter password, relay in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car – there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

Have a nice time!

Adapted from Anonymous. John Wesley Yoest, Jr., a former Army Captain, is a management consultant.


Jack Yoest, US Army


Was this helpful? Do comment.

Consider a free eMail subscription for this site.

Thank you (foot)notes:

Permission for use was graciously granted. It didn’t matter that I bought LOTS of Cameron’s books — which he also graciously autographed — and gave to friends and made them required reading for the Penta-Posse.

Be sure to follow Your Business Blogger(R) and Charmaine on Twitter: @JackYoest and @CharmaineYoest

Jack and Charmaine also blog at Reasoned Audacity and at Management Training of DC, LLC.

Also see Father Failure.

And after you subscribe to Your Business Blogger(R), look into W. Bruce Cameron’s Rules fan club.

Visit Mudville’s Open Post.

Outside the Beltway has Traffic Jam.

19 Apr



Father Failure

April 19, 2006 | By | 2 Comments

Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes had a baby. A girl named Suri, or something. It means Red Rose.

Charmaine and I were betting they’d get married first. We were wagering on a wedding.

We lost.


Katie Holmes

with her parentsKatie’s dad was central in her life. We thought Katie’s dad would put some boundaries on their passion. Until the knot was tied.

Charmaine wrote last year,

The tabloids are all agog with word that Katie Holmes has stated to the world that she will remain a virgin until she marries.

And now she’s dating Tom Cruise (not really a Top Gun, but played one in the movies).

The tabloids have reported breathlessly that Cruise filled Katie’s room with dozens of red roses…

Of course, we’ve seen this scenario before with other starlets. But my vote is with Katie. Why? Look at that picture of her with her parents. Both of them. While other reporters are fixated on the wolf with red roses, I’m interested in what she has to say about the other man in her life — her father: She consults him on every major decision, and “He always tried to intimidate boys who wanted to date me,” she says (according to Sky Showbiz )

It’s a dad thing. In every culture.

So now Your Business Blogger is really worried. We have three daughters. We’re determined to protect the little women from the wolves. With W. Bruce Cameron’s Rules.

We get lots of advice on girls dating, these days.

Sheila Lennon from The Providence (R.I.) Journal reported that, after reading my rules,

I chuckle, since my dad once met a dubious date with hammer in hand. I eluded parental controls as necessary, nonetheless. Mr. Yoest, you don’t have a chance.

Sheila, this is not helpful.

So. I’ve some extra work to do. Extra vigilance. Civilization depends on it. On me.


Was this helpful? Do comment.

Consider a free eMail subscription for this site.

Thank you (foot)notes:

See Meatloaf’s Wolf With Red Roses at the jump. The passion.

See Charmaine’s Need for Social Censure.

And Values.

Basil’s Blog has another picnic.

Outside the Beltway has Traffic Jam. And be sure to visit Mensa Barbie. Smart girl.

Read More

He is Risen

April 14, 2006 | By | No Comments

Sharing a repost from one of our family’s most treasured Easter memories — Over a decade ago now in 2005, we took a trip with all of the children to the Grand Canyon for Sunrise Service on Easter Sunday. At the time, since they were small, I used pseudonyms for each child.  Hannah was the Dreamer; John was the Dude; Helena was the Diva; Sarah was the Dancer; and James was Baby Boo.  Happy Easter and God’s richest blessings to each of you and your families!


He is risen! He is risen indeed!

The alarm went off at 3 AM. Could we manage to rouse five tired children and make it to the sunrise service at the Grand Canyon 90 miles north? Having come this far on our westward adventure, we wanted to try.

But the Penta-Posse got themselves up, into the ski clothes we’d laid out to combat the cold, and beat me into the truck. (They may have been eased along by the chocolate and jelly beans the easter bunny left. . .) In fact, they were in such high spirits that they wanted our progress up Arizona Rt. 180 through the Coconino Forest to turn into a race with the lone hatchback we encountered along the way in the dark.

As the little car left us in his wake (Dad, c’mon, let’s go!!) Jack told the posse that we would let the hatchback “hit the cow” for us and tried to refocus their attention on seeing who could guess how low the temperature would go. The Dreamer “won” when the thermometer dropped to 17 degrees. I worried about the wind-chill on the canyon rim. Then, we crested a hill and came up suddenly on the hatchback, which was stopped dead in front of us as a herd of six or seven deer charged acrosss the road.

The mountains to our right, capped in snow, glowed with the reflected light of a full moon.

We reached the canyon at 5 AM just as the faintest light began breaching the eastern rim. We parked along the shoulder near Mather Point; the Dancer had fallen asleep again and didn’t want to venture into the cold — we wrapped her in a blanket and joined the others who were streaming in the direction of haunting music playing on a loudspeaker at the outlook. We were early enough to be among the first there; eventually around 1600 people arrived, filling up the platform, the stairs to the outlook, and lining the rim looking out over Mather Point.

The Dreamer, the Dude and the Diva scrambled up to a perch atop a large boulder, while Jack and I settled in to lower seats along a rocky wall with the Dancer and Boo.

By now, a faint pink light was spreading along the horizon. We had made it! My eyes filled with tears as my apprehension and tension from the press to get there was replaced with a sense of awe at the majesty in front of me.

Then the cold started to seep in. The Dancer started to cry. She settled in to Jack’s lap and buried her face in his chest. A little later, the Dreamer came down to take her so that they could warm each other. Boo slept on.

Half an hour left until the service and now the light was spreading and we could see the growing crowd around us more clearly. My worst fears about the wind-chill never materialized, but it was very cold. A stranger came over to the Dancer and the Dreamer, and wrapped them in a blanket. “Here,” he said, “you look cold. This is an extra.”

It wasn’t an extra. We were among friends. He is risen. He is risen indeed.

The service started and Boo began to cry. Then he settled quickly into my shoulder. . .

The sun broke over the northeastern rim with a brilliant glow, revealing the colors of the canyon in all their glory. Red, green, pink, orange. Deep clefts of darkness and shadow. The Colorado silently running in dizzying depths below. A raw wood cross on the edge appeared to hang in the air, silhouetted with the vast expanse of the canyon behind.

Christ, the Lord, is risen today, Alleluia!

Sons of men and angels say, Alleluia!

Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!

Sing, ye heavens, and earth, reply, Alleluia!

Hail, the Lord of earth and heaven, Alleluia!

Praise to Thee by both be given, Alleluia!

Thee we greet triumphant now, Alleluia!

Hail, the resurrection day, Alleluia

Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia!

Our triumphant holy day, Alleluia!

Who did once upon the cross, Alleluia!

Suffer to redeem our loss. Alleluia!

Afterward, the Dude and I stood and looked over the canyon. “This is awesome,” he said.

He is risen. He is risen, indeed.


Originally published on March 28th, 2005 .

Dads, Death and Debt of Honor: The Loss of the USS Bonefish

April 7, 2006 | By | One Comment

Your Business Blogger was recently interviewed. The host graciously asked about the importance of my dad and dads.

I lean back and pause.

We have a yearly ritual on 18 June. To celebrate dads and sacrifice. And the boys who never became dads.

I thought we might ‘celebrate’ a few months early.


My father, then only a teen-ager from Jersey, left high school, went to war and was assigned to the submarine, USS Bonefish. Just before the final mission of the Bonefish, my father walked off the gangplank – transferred to another assignment. Another man took his place.


USS Bonefish,

Returning from her 4th patrol.

Sailors, rest your oars.

On its eighth mission, on June 18, 1945, the Bonefish was lost fighting the enemy in the Sea of Japan, with the loss of all 53 officers and men. It was the last U.S. submarine sunk in World War II. Dad eventually went back to high school and married my mother.

The other man is “on eternal patrol,” as the veterans say.

A half-century later, after fighting in and surviving two wars, my father was buried in Arlington Cemetery. He had the chance to raise a family and devote 30 years to the armed services, and pin second lieutenant bars on my shoulders.

He didn’t talk much about the Bonefish or the man who replaced him.

Still, I imagine in some Navy Valhalla my dad and this other sailor linked up together and asked the Creator, “Why?”

“Why him? Why me?”


John Sr. with John Jr.

War forces these questions on us, and they echo for generations. My father had me, and I now have a 4-year-old son, John, who carries his grandfather’s name and his love of battle and discipline.


John III with

John Jr. (Jack)

John, like all children, often asks, “Why?” Like all fathers, I struggle to answer. But there are questions mere human reason cannot fathom.

Why was my father not on that submarine that fateful day?

And the answer does not come. Only that John now lives. With a purpose and a destiny still unknown.

When my wife was pregnant with our first child, someone asked her, “What is your greatest fear?” She answered that it was losing her husband; she feared the possibility of facing the awesome responsibility of motherhood alone.

But now, several children later, as I reflect on that same question, my fear is not of losing her, or even one of our daughters. I fear losing my son. In my masculine pride, I believe I can protect my wife and girls, but in my heart lurks the dread possibility that I must one day send my son to war.

My boy loves my cavalry saber and my dad’s medals. Wearing a military uniform and military service runs in our family. My son’s bloodline is traced through the Civil War and the Revolutionary War to William Penn to Charlemagne of ninth century France. His great-grandfather helped build Virginia Military Institute.

I pray the time never comes, but if it does, I expect that he will fight for God and country like his fathers before him.

Buried at sea, there are no headstones. I cannot mark the grave of the man who took my father’s place, so I mark the date. I pay silent homage in remembrance of June 18, 1945, when the sea smashed through the bulkheads and turned a warship into a coffin.

There have been many such coffins, and if history is any teacher there are many yet to come.

When I think of future wars, I pray that a doomed high-tech Bonefish will not carry my John. The fear of this nearly unendurable loss humbles me. That young man who walked on the Bonefish to take my father’s place was another man’s son. Another man’s dreams lost at sea.

War turns civilization on its head. In peace, sons bury fathers. In war, fathers bury sons.

It is a weighty debt. A debt of honor due. I expect to instill in my son a sense of history, of purpose, of his mission. That his body is not entirely his own, that he has a high calling.

I hope that I can teach him the lessons of his forefathers, those men now called the Greatest Generation.

It is my prayer that instilling this sense of mission will drive out the distractions, temptations and destructions of his growing generation. That drugs will not cloud his ambition. That he will see the hand of divine providence moving in his life.

That he will know he has so much to be thankful for. Like his fathers before him.

I pray he will be grateful, like his grandfather. It is my charge to tell my son that another man took his grandfather’s place. My son has the duty, and like me, the obligation to his family and to that other man, to live with a sense of purpose and awe.

To live with a sense of respect to the tomb of that other young submariner.

This June 18, I want to salute the man who died for me and the men who died for us all. I want my son to know his debt of honor. And, God willing, my son will bury me.

John Wesley Yoest, Jr., of Richmond, is [the former] assistant secretary for the Department of Health and Human Resources for the Commonwealth of Virginia.


Was this helpful? Do comment.

Consider a free eMail subscription for this site.

Thank you (foot)notes:

Charmaine blogged on the Bonefish June last year.

Since this was first published a few years ago, we’ve been honored to hear from other veterans who served on the Bonefish and naval historians. There were actually 85 men lost aboard the Bonefish and another boat holds the distinction of last sub lost in the war.

And, since this piece was written, we’ve added John’s brother James to the family — here he is in the same sailor suit that dad sewed by hand while at sea decades and decades ago.


James and Jack

See here for our visit to Arlington Cemetery.

Alert reader Greg Gray reminds us that,

“In peace, sons bury fathers. In war, fathers bury sons.”

That comes from Herodotus 1:87. But it’s still a wonderful point. Also relevant to today is Pericles’ oration in Thucydides’ Peloponnesian Wars.

Published: June 18, 1999

Section: LOCAL, page B11

Type of story: OPINION


© 1999- Landmark Communications Inc.

Description of illustration(s):

Art by Margaret Scott


Mudville Gazette has Open Post.

Be sure to visit Ron Newton with A Noble Generation Of Workers Matured The Hard Way.

03 Apr



Savage Places Second in the Cal Ripken Tournament

April 3, 2006 | By | 2 Comments


Savage Spirit, Maryland

Championship First Runner-Up

Cal Ripken, Opening Day Tournament

2006, 11u, years old and under

Vince Lombardi once said, “The Green Bay Packers never lost a football game. They just ran out of time.”

Coach Scott Grebenstein must be saying the same thing. Running out of time and innings in the final championship game Sunday afternoon with the Maryland Cardinals. Score: Savage behind Cardinals, 11 to 12, to place second.

He led the Savage Spirit baseball team this weekend on a series of wins and a “slaughter rule” upset over the Maryland Mud Hens.

It started Friday nite. Your Business Blogger packed up Charmaine and the Penta-Posse into the monster SUV for two nites in Aberdeen, Maryland. Home of the Cal Ripken Stadium complex. Opening Day Tournaments.

We saw old friends from Charlottesville baseball allstar days. Charmaine teared up. Not me. Although it was windy andblowingdustgetsinyoureyesandwateruptogetdustout.

(Hint: moving 11 times in 15 years of marriage is too many good-bys. Too many hellos.)

Anyway. The team played well. The Dude played well.


The Dude pitching


Wind up


Delivery: 3 up, 3 down


The Dude can hit The Dude got his first over the fence home run on Sunday.

Congratulations Savage Spirit on a great season’s opener!


Was this helpful? Do comment.

Consider a free eMail subscription for this site.

Thank you (foot)notes:


Cal Ripken Baseball

Sledding & Shoveling on the Sabbath

February 13, 2006 | By | No Comments


The Dude, The Dreamer, The Diva

learning the value of a dollar;

12” of snow. Church cancelled. Pre-teens tackle shoveling. Forgive this ‘day in the life’ of posting of Your Business Blogger. But we wanted to document that it’s never too early to teach kids the real value of a labor and money. And the connection. The income they generated for themselves at Uncle Steve and Tom’s office building paid for their pizza.


Kids from the cul-de-sac,

preparing for combat —

snowball fight


500 foot sled run

conveniently located


Was this helpful? Do comment.

Consider a free eMail subscription for this site.

Thank you (foot)notes:

As Bedside Baptists yesterday, Charmaine and I saw Lynn Swann on ABC’s This Week. He’d have our vote. See the Commonwealth Conservative. And visit the Swann Blog. Conservative bloggers and conservative politicians agree, most of the time. Unlike liberal bloggers and liberal politicos.

01 Feb



Keeping the Little Woman out of Nordstroms.

February 1, 2006 | By | 4 Comments


Charmaine at the


in LA

credit: Mike’s NoiseLast April Charmaine launches her blog Reasoned Audacity. To write about Politics in Real Life. Because she didn’t have enough to do.

Then, Family Research Council, decided to become even more assertive with technology. Expanding education and advocacy.

To reach and teach the people who care about defending Family, Faith and Freedom. Protecting human life from conception to natural death. A Judicary that believes in Natural Law; original intent. The traditional family.


So they brought Charmaine on-board to set up the non-profit’s corporate FRCBlog.

To change the world while changing diapers.

And blog.

Blog marketer Seth Godin reminds us that weblogs work best when based on:

1. Candor;

2. Urgency;

3. Timeliness;

4. Pithiness; and

5. Controversy

(maybe utility if you want six).

And Controversy Charmaine got.

The innovation in advancing agendas in the blogosphere belongs not to the liberal world-view, but to traditional truth seekers.

And print outlets noticed that conservative bloggers were winning readers and influencing the debate. The Village Voice, The Washington Post, United Press International and The Nation.


Protesters See

Mood Shift Against ‘Roe’Alert Readers will remember that 50 conservative bloggers traveled from across the country to blog at the March for Life. The Washington Post wrote in their dead tree and on-line editions:

Charmaine Yoest, a vice president at the Family Research Council, told a morning gathering of 40 antiabortion bloggers that the demise of Roe would mean a battle within each state over whether abortion should be legal — a more localized, grass-roots fight.

“Consensus is building that we are moving into a post- Roe future, and we need to be ready,” she said.


For Pro-Life Bloggers,

a New HubrisLike their blog brothers The (Liberal) Nation is worried:

…What Karen Hughes is to Bush’s “war on terror,” Charmaine Yoest is to the prolife movement. She was recently hired by the Family Research Council to develop a new web and e-mail strategy and to create an FRC blog….

Yoest even went so far as to claim that it is “prochoicers [who] try to make us believe that overturning Roe will be the end of abortion”…

“What we’ve been explaining to the media and others for a while is, all it would do is just throw it back to the states.”

…Yoest told the crowd, “We’re on a campaign to win hearts and minds.”


Make Love, Not Gore

Sure of a post-Roe America,

anti-abortion marchers

go cuddlyThe Village Voice writes:

Charmaine Yoest spoke of the dawn of a new era in the abortion debate. “The legal change may take awhile,” she said, “but I really do see us moving into a post-Roe America.”


Anti-abortion bloggers

convene in Washington UPI reports:

Networking among anti-abortion bloggers through technology will counter the portrayal of the anti-abortion movement in mainstream media, according to Charmaine Yoest, vice president for external relations at the Family Research Council and managing editor of the daily blog

Yoest compared the anti-abortion blogging movement to a line of high-tech 21st-century water buckets putting out a large fire burning since the Roe vs. Wade decision was passed down in 1973.

“We form an association, that’s the American way,” said Yoest, one of three hosts for the event.

Emphasizing the impact of technology in actively promoting the anti-abortion stance, she said more women on both sides of the debate were becoming more conscious of the healthy fetus via technology including sonograms.

“We are headed into a whole new era of abortion public policy,” Yoest said.

The liberal left couldn’t get an audience on talk radio. And now has lost the blogosphere to conservatives — the real progressives.


Was this helpful? Do comment.

Consider a free eMail subscription for this site.

Thank you (foot)notes:

Be sure to bookmark The FRCBlog.

Yahoo News has The Nation article with links. Added value. For Free.

The main stream media is pro-abortion, anti-tradition — as well as the Bush-hating blog innovators Seth Godin and Brad Feld, Tbogg and the readership of Fast Company.

Basil’s Blog has a picnic.

Don Surber has best posts for Wednesday.

Alas has open thread.

Happy New Year!

January 2, 2006 | By | One Comment

It’s been a great year, 2005.

I pray that your zero six will be profitable. Thank you for stopping by to visit.

Happy New Year!

Your Business Blogger


Was this helpful?

Consider a free eMail subscription

Thank you (foot)notes:

Reasoned Audacity.