I’m sitting here wondering on this cold bright Halloween night if our grand experiment in Democracy will withstand Tuesday and the days that follow.
It has been noted by writers more astute than I that this is more than just an election because this particular election will reveal our national character and what kind of people we really are.
It’s our choice to approve either decency or debauchery. We all know which is which. Will our worst instincts as a nation prevail?
Trump’s supporters will be voting for racism. Whether they admit it or not, if they vote for Trump, they are voting for a man who condones and encourages white supremacy. …
I fell yesterday. I was coming around our bed, full steam ahead (I tend to walk fast) when I tripped on the corner of my new upholstered bench at the foot of the bed. I am not accustomed to a bench being there. My left leg got caught, and the rest of me had too much forward momentum to avoid a fall.
Of course, I couldn’t fall on the upholstered bench. Oh, no. I cleared that. Man, it was like slow motion. I saw the hardwood coming up at me. And of course, I threw my right arm out to catch myself. My grandson was upstairs and heard me hit the floor. …
I think I know what makes Shannon Ashley so popular on Medium.
It’s simple. It is because of her honesty. Readers love honest words — words not contrived to make oneself look good — but words that show the author in real life in bright technicolor.
Shannon’s pieces tell it like it is and dare us to judge her for her raging humanity.
She tells us about her weight, her housekeeping, her past and present mistakes, her family, and her misgivings. She does so cleared-eyed and vulnerable with plain words and simple sentences.
She doesn’t try to exalt herself or show off the fact that she’s among the most popular writers on Medium. She just works. She writes and writes and then edits her several publications. She’s a workhorse. And she gets the words to sound just like she is talking with us while we sit on the front porch. …
Joe should have said, “just don’t kill him.”
Joe Biden will probably catch a lot of flack for saying police, rather than killing someone, should shoot them in the leg. He said that in Wednesday night’s town hall. But he meant use non-lethal force. He’s not a police professional and it’s perfectly understandable he wouldn’t know what police are supposed to do instead of killing someone. I immediately knew what he meant — use non-lethal force.
Police always shoot to kill.
Already, I saw a police officer on social media saying no cop would suggest such a thing. Biden probably doesn’t know that it is against all police policies to shoot to wound. He was only trying to say the police should quit killing people when there’s any doubt whether it’s necessary and when there are other options. …
You putrid pieces of shit actually attacked the US Capitol with your flagpoles, bats, and tasers? What century do you think this is? What were you thinking? Can you even think? You are now traitors who should be hung. To the world you will be known as domestic terrorists or maybe just dumb rednecks. Either way, not good. You know?
Did you join in the rebel yell as you ran into our seat of government? Probably. You all should have worn those signs Jeff Foxworthy talks about — all of you know Jeff, right?
Remember the “I’m Stupid” signs he says people like you should wear? Here’s your sign. Oh, wait. No one will mistake you for someone with a brain. We see how dumb you are by your actions. …
Well, glory be. Our government is going to “give” us $600 each of our own money! How nice of them. Just out of the goodness of their hearts?
Would it surprise anyone to know that Canada is giving their citizens $2000 per month during the pandemic? That’s a little more realistic as to how much it takes just to have food, shelter, and transportation to work if one has work.
Six-hundred dollars. Really?
The sorry Republicans gave away 1.7 trillion — yes, trillion — of our revenue when they greatly cut the taxes of the richest people and the biggest, most profitable corporations. …
I made some friggin’ cookies.
Yeah, I know I told you I hate Christmas,
and I really, really, do.
But what else does someone do
Who has had grandchildren for 18 years?
It’s like a habit.
Then the grandchildren.
Oh, Christmas is almost here so I have to make cookies.
I don’t really. Only one grandchild will be here.
And he’s almost 18 and doesn’t care about cookies.
But I like cookies,
And my sweet man likes them more.
So, alright, I made the damn cookies.
It doesn’t mean I like Christmas any better.
At least it’s only a week…
I hate Christmas. The jingle bells, the decorations, the food, and even the mall Santas that we at least can’t have this year.
My favorite day is the day after Christmas. When it’s all over and I don’t have to deal with it again for a year. I love the day after Christmas.
There’s no shopping stress, no need to buy a last minute gift or two, no need to wrap gifts, no need to worry about if I’ve gotten the right thing for the right person. There are no expectations. After Christmas. Ah, the relief.
But building up to it, the days just get worse and it gets harder to sleep at night. Dads just watch TV, but mothers and grandmothers, of which I am both, damn near work themselves to death while stressed to levels a human shouldn’t have to endure. …
Watching the ridiculous but dangerous final gasps of the dictator wannabe:
I watched our president-elect today and even though he had a cough and cold (please God, don’t let it be Covid) he was so reassuring. It’s going to be nice to have a sane man in office again — and him being a good man is just icing on the cake.
It’s a pity Trump is determined to make his final days as calamitous for the country as he possibly can. I can’t fathom why so many Republicans have gone along with him on his mission to thwart the voice of the people and to cause as much harm as he can on his way out. …
Yes, I’m a bad one — in my poor dementia-ravaged mother’s eyes — and I need to be stopped by the police and the elder abuse people. She grabs the phone and reports me sometimes, usually telling it to the dial tone. Not only has she seemed to be plunged into instant dementia since her fall, but she has lost her hearing to a great extent. It may only be her comprehension is gone, but she automatically yells, “what?” anytime something is said to her. And when we are talking to each other, too.