Mentoring the next generation of conservative leadership is a serious obligation, and we Jedi masters are thus occasionally called upon to instruct young padwans in the ways of the Force. Readers will recall that I spent Friday afternoon covering the National Conservative Student Conference hosted by the Young America’s Foundation. The conference was followed by a reception and dinner banquet at D.C.’s luxurious Ritz-Carlton Hotel:
Fred Thompson was thronged by young Fred Heads among the rising generation of conservative activists at the YAF reception. While I hate to break my “don’t hassle the celebrities” rule, I did impose on Senator Thompson for a minute to make mention of the Christine O’Donnell Senate campaign in Delaware.
George Allen joins fellow YAF supporters at the gala dinner.
OK, guys, don’t get all “hubba hubba” here. YAF’s Kiana Dunn is only 18, and just recently graduated escaped from high school youth indoctrination camp in California. The reason I took the photo was to remember her name. Why? Because she told me she will be a freshman this fall at a college just 10 miles from Bruce Springsteen’s home in New Jersey and yet, sad to say, she doesn’t even know the lyrics of “Born to Run.” As a matter of cultural preservation, I expect the Sarah T. Herman Intern Scholar to commit these immortal lyrics to memory.
While I would have liked to stay for dinner with the YAF crew at the Ritz-Carlton, the highways were jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive, and my mentoring efforts were needed elsewhere — at the Rocket Bar in Chinatown, to be exact. It was there that Newsbusters was hosting the monthly “First Friday” event, where girls comb their hair in rearview mirrors and the boys try to look so hard. So I had to ride through mansions of glory in my suicide machine to 714 7th Street.
For some reason, seeing Brent Bozell III in a Newbusters T-shirt reminds me of how this town rips the bones from your back.
Joe Marier appears on the right side of this photo, but considering that he writes for Frum Forum . . . well, I’m mentoring him in hopes that together we could break this trap.
Moments before this photos was taken, all these guys solemnly pledged to Iris Somberg, “We want to guard your dreams and visions.”
You’re probably wondering why Crabby Con is not only wearing the famous fedora but also, quite obviously, seated in the back of the famous 2004 KIA Optima. Trust me, there is a perfectly innocent explanation for this, but to get that explantion, you’ll have to come back in about an hour for the next update. I’ll have more photos, which I promise to post with all the madness in my soul.
UPDATE: As promised, perfectly innocent:
You see, Crabby Con was there to see Yates Walker, who is just a scared and lonely rider and has gotta find out how it feels.
I’m pretty sure this is one of those guys who was sprung from cages out on Highway 9.
Two of his fellow Cornell alumni joined Daily Caller deputy editor Jamie Weinstein in an everlasting kiss.
One Fine Jay and Lachlan Markay are gonna get to that place where we really want to go. More photos in the next update.
UPDATE II: Everybody’s out on the run tonight, but there’s no place left to hide:
Matt Sheffield, Mrs. Sheffield, Kevin Mooney and Mary Beth Hutchins sweat it out in the streets of a runaway American dream.
Neither Chris Moody nor Lachlan Markay is gay, even though they look like they may want to be huddled on the beach in a mist.
Iris Somberg and Laura Lieberman briefly considered accepting my invitation to walk with me out on the wire, but wisely decided against it.
Yates Walker and Matthew Vadum are chrome wheeled, fuel injected and steppin’ out over the line.
Matthew Vadum poses with Crabby Con, who is waiting for her ginormous Larry King glasses to come back in style, but ’til then tramps like us, baby, we were born to run.