News Commentary
The 1%ers
Date: May 16-17 2012
kt
Some 1%er, who hung out with Romney at Bain Capital, has written a book with a subtitle, “Why everything you have been told about the economy is wrong.” I saw him( interviewed a couple of times. He basically wants us to “make nice” with the rich. BS! The rich don’t need us making nice, plain and simple. What gets me with guys like this is that they appear to think we’re stupid.
To be reasonably fair to the guy, he basically seems to be making a pitch for the market economy. But, give me a break. I saw “Pretty Woman” where Julia Roberts as a prostitute had a hell of a lot more values than Richard Gere who played the corporate raider. Fortunately, love entered the picture and it was the movies and all lived happily ever after. But, in the real world this author and Romney raid businesses, sell off stuff, downsize, fire people and then f..king pretend it’s the American way.
Related Articles:
What Have Rich People Done For You Lately(mydigitalfc.com)
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Early Voting____
Date: May 15-16 2012
kt
I just voted and always vote absentee because I want time and I like doing it casually(voted early, California Primary June 5). Because I follow politics, I’m pretty much on top of issues.
We could save a lot of money by stopping the voter guide. People are apathetic about doing their civic duty. I simply voted for non-incumbents. Does my vote make a difference? Doubt It.
Fifty percent don’t even bother and this is one of the reasons that everytime I hear some politician say, “American people,” I want to throw up. American people, BS. Most don’t give a “rat’s ass” about the electoral process. The dumb MFers. They vote against their own interests if they do vote, but they don’t get it. , “American People”: should be “Americans who care.”
And, while I am on this rant, let me say this: I didn’t vote for a single Republican. As an Independent, I, at least, want to be able to say I never voted for the party that want us to channel the1950's.
In this election, I feel they will do anything to get rid of the President, even if they have to hold their nose and nominate a Mormon and gazillionaire with whom they have little in common. I’m going with a bumper sticker I recently saw which sums it up for me as I’m heading out to drop my ballot in the mail: “I think, therefore I am a liberal.”
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More Mom Memories
Those of us who are older, have memories of how our mother lived her life before us. My wife has a plethora of memories of how driven her mother was. Her mom absolutely had a great capacity for getting things accomplished when she set her mind to it. She was a terrific seamstress, a good cook. She painted. She had a capacity to rise to complete any task. The family came up with “ShowTime” which was important to her- a busy pastor’s wife, yet when it came time for a public persona, she was there. It was “Showtime.” Not a bad concept.
Now, my mother was big into maintenance issues. We were farmers and food on the table, clothes ready, the crew ready to tackle the day was the big task. War created a different scenario for my mom. It seems that one of my brothers was at war at any given time.
Raz, my older brother, had already done his duty as a Marine on Guadalcanal. Three in various ways were dealing with Korea and then there was Vietnam. The draft was a reality and none of us had a way to get out and wouldn’t anyway. It was our duty.
For Mom, while we were away, the mail became the issue of the day. She never used the front door, always the back. But, for the mail, it was the front door. It was a ritual: usually the mail came about 2PM. She was out the door about that time. If there was anything from my brothers, she opened it on the spot. Watching my Mom and her disappointment at the mailbox when there was nothing and conversely seeing her joy at a letter from one of my brothers, burned its way into my psyche and I am convinced is the reason I became a world class letter writer.
Mom Memories
Looking at our Mom and Dad from our present lens and wondering about their relationship in today’s terms isn’t really valid.
For one thing, I don’t have a clue as to what their relationship was in terms of intimacy. Pretty good, in a sense, I think, as six kids were the result, but their communication was a little hidden from us.
In those days, issues weren't discussed like the comings and goings of life and surely not things that were family matters.
There were no family conferences to attack whatever the issue of the day might be. It was a benevolent dictatorship for sure.
Mom could stop you in your tracks with a look and she had an astute perception of the world that few had in my view. Even as a youngster, I can remember thinking, how did she know that?
I don't remember ever seeing her read, although there were always newspapers around and my Dad seemed to be pouring over something constantly. Maybe they were discussing all of this between intimacies, I don't know but she knew things. Later on when we finally could buy a TV, she watched it constantly.
When I was in college, she would call me up and chew me out for not coming home more often. I would load in my old '49 Ford and get home and then after greeting and eating, she was back watching her soaps. Early on, as I was half-listening to her talk about people, I would wonder, “Who are these folks?” Later on, I would discover that she was talking about her soaps.
She watched Jesse Helms religiously who was on TV almost every night usually touting one conservative cause after another. When he ran for office, she got out of her sick bed to go vote for him.
We were farmers and hard work was the order of the day. We would get up before dawn, eat a hearty breakfast, and go work in the fields.
We might or might not come back for lunch, more likely than not, no. If we ate at all, it was a biscuit, maybe some country ham sandwiched between that biscuit, plenty of water, and often ice tea in a mason jar.
When we all piled in at suppertime, it was a table ready for a group of hungry farmers. Much of these memories are surmised as my real work in the fields came after my brothers were no longer around.
My oldest brother, Raz, went to war and Corb went to a real job. Farming for the family was never considered a real job—it was what you did. If you needed to earn money, you went to work somewhere else like the mill, a store, or anywhere that one could be paid the cold cash.
Our coming of age and leaving home was always a matter of great trauma to Ma. Everytime one of us left, it seemed like a little piece of her disappeared. But, when we returned for a visit, we were welcomed with an big Sunday lunch with two or three meats, all kinds of vegetables and desserts including her famous homemade biscuits and molasses.
Mom was fiercely loyal to her family, sometimes maybe when she should have been more pragmatic. And, often the only side she saw belonged to her family. There was a feeling from the beginning that our Mom was the haven of rest in any storm.
Mom ruled. Most folks seem to think that men rule the household; when, in fact, it is the women. Mom knew about hard work, responsibility, and money. She knew how to keep seven children, including six boys, fed, clothed, and disciplined with what little resources she had.
I’ve often wondered, where in the world she would be if she had been formally educated.
Happy Mothers Day, Mom. Your children, will always be grateful.(from the book, Brothers )
My brother Raz was a local celebrity, principal, school superintendent, big Democrat and author. He loved people and kind of sucked the air out of any gathering where he was present. Most people loved him. He had a legion of those who could give testimony to how he had helped them over the years- Doctors, lawyers, mentees, educators, the list is endless. He had a few detractors, but it didn’t slow him down.
His graveside service was 3 weeks ago. April 21.There was one funny scene that Raz would have loved: A flag was draped over the casket and the local VFW was in charge of folding it. The combined age of the two guys folding was probably close to two hundred. Folding the flag took longer than the entire service. Raz would have gotten such a “kick” out of it. I can just hear him now, “Folding the flag took longer than it did to write the US Constitution.”
After they folded the flag, it seems it took fifteen minutes to get the crease right, This Air Force type, a Colonel, must have memorized a speech. It took him forever to present the flag to Ireni, Raz’s wife. It was comical. Raz would have loved telling this story. A master story teller, he loved to tell about the funerals he went too, especially those that went on for hours. He often wrote about them in the weekly column he did for the local paper.
We would like to gather stories about Raz(any story: a humorous story, a gratitude story, a teacher, principal, student story) and compile them in a book to honor Raz. You can use your first name, last name or be anonymous. If any of you have a story, please share it by clicking on the comment link below or send us an email.
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