Patti Davis

Patti Davis: Our Disappointment With Obama

"Maybe we fell in love too fast," my friend said. "You know, we might have zipped right past the road signs." Several of us were sitting around over the holiday weekend, enjoying a lovely bottle of wine at sunset ... and discussing the condition of our country. Which led us to President Obama. Which led us to our mutually shared disappointment in him.

Full Speed Ahead

Lindsay Lohan is back in rehab. Back? Wasn't she just there? Fellow bad girl Britney Spears wasn't in long enough for her hair to grow back. Meanwhile, Paris Hilton zipped right by rehab and picked up the GO DIRECTLY TO JAIL card.In the last year or so, rehab has become the ultimate publicity tool, a brief break from the glitzy life, a chance to burnish one's reputation. (The bad girls aren't alone in this regard; see Mel Gibson, Isaiah Washington.) What we've forgotten is that rehab is...

Patti Davis on Life as a 'First Child'

I am part of a small group of people who, no matter how old we grow or what we accomplish in our lifetimes, will always be known as First Children. Because with an election—always a historic event—each of our fathers became president of the United States, so by extension, we became part of history too.

Oedipus at War

A few years ago, during my father's memorial service at the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C., I saw a telling moment between the two George Bushes. Bush 41, the former president, had just finished his eulogy, a poignant, touching tribute that hit all the right notes—soft humor, sadness and a clear affection for the man he was there to remember.

Heartlessness

When I was a kid, I was once being teased relentlessly by a bully at school, and I faked being sick to stay home and avoid him. My parents knew I was faking (the thermometer under hot water trick didn't work) but they also knew something was wrong.

Lost Innocence

Many years ago, I heard someone say that America lost her innocence the day President Kennedy was shot. I was 11 years old on that day, and I still recall every moment of it, even the slant of the sun when everyone in my school was called out of class and onto the wide green lawn to hear the awful news.

How Does the Heart Survive?

The need for a home is primal. Even if it's just a single room, if you close the door and feel that it's yours—if the lamplight spills across the floor exactly as you want it to and the objects around you have stories behind them, personal meaning, it's home.

Rude America

I don't know a single person who isn't acutely aware of the fact that we've become a very rude country. It's gotten to the point that if we don't encounter rudeness at least twice a day, we're shocked.The other day, I went into a juice place, ordered a smoothie and watched the girl behind the counter fill it to overflowing, cram the top on and slide it across the counter at me with such vehemence I wondered if she was in training for some Olympic shuffleboard event.

Taking Stock

The other night, I joined friends at their home for a Passover Seder. It isn't the first Seder I've been to, but it has been many years since I've participated in this traditional dinner.

The Economics of a Bloodbath

Despite mounting pressure to cancel the yearly seal hunt, in which hundreds of thousands of baby harp seals are killed simply for their pelts, the Canadian government is allowing the bloodbath to continue.Between 2003 and 2005, an estimated 1 million seal pups were slaughtered according to the Canadian Department of Fisheries and Oceans.

Writer on Trial

When my first book, "Homefront," was published in 1986, I was publicly tarred and feathered for daring to call it a "novel." A chorus of angry voices accused me of writing a "veiled autobiography" and simply changing the names.That's basically the opposite of what's happened to James Frey.

The Flip-Flop Flap

I'm not exactly sure why the young women of Northwestern University's national championship lacrosse team are being chastised for choosing to wear comfortable shoes (OK, fine, they're technically flip-flops) to the White House.

Dear Diary ...

From the shadowy maneuverings of a confidential source--whose identity I will not reveal no matter what you do to me--I have received a page from the diary of George W.

Roots of Hatred

I was 11 years old when three civil-rights workers were brutally murdered in Mississippi in 1964. I don't remember where I was or what was going on in my safe, privileged life when I heard about it.

Humanity Before Politics

On Tuesday, the House of Representatives passed an embryonic stem-cell research bill even as President George W. Bush threatened a veto. Written by Democrat Diana DeGette of Colorado and Republican Mike Castle of Delaware, it seeks to expand federal research funding beyond the narrow limits imposed by Bush in August 2001.

Healthy Partner Wanted

SEEKING: a dependable, truthful man (or woman) for a four-to-eight-year relationship (we can remain friends after that if you don't turn out to be a terrible disappointment).

River of Blood

While we mourn the pope's passing, and celebrate the life he lived, our attention is naturally turned inward to our hearts. We ruminate on compassion, on making the world a kinder place.

Dirty Footprints

President Bush must be feeling so victorious. The Senate has now said yes to drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge--the pristine place President Eisenhower took measures to protect in 1960.Environmental groups have said the fight isn't over, and I want to believe there is still something we can do--write letters, e-mails, rise up en masse and say no.

The Shortest Distance Between Two Points

There is a theory that important lessons can be found in any circumstance, even the most banal or mundane. To unearth a lesson in the midst of turmoil or irritation would probably require the serenity of the Dalai Lama, so for the rest of us, the best we can do is try to better ourselves after the fact.This brings me to a traffic situation that almost derailed me last night, almost made me a no-show at an important event, very nearly made me lose my mind, definitely made me break the speed...

Death of a Tiger

On Feb. 23, California Fish and Game officials shot the tiger--a 350-pound animal who at that point was hungry and disoriented. They didn't attempt to shoot it with a tranquilizer gun; they just reached for their rifles.

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