Compensated

Compensated

It’s wonderful that the September 11th Victim Compensation Fund was finally passed by Congress, setting compensation for all injured from this terrorist act until 2090.

What’s shameful is all the bullshit and pleading needed to get this done when it should never had been a question in the first place.  It should never have had to come down to the actions of any surviving first responders, former television show hosts or New York City police detectives living out their last days to get this done.  It just should have been done.  Period.  And it should have been unanimous, not have a positive Senate vote of 97 with two bastards voting against it.

People talk about so-and-so being “un-American”.  You want to know who the real un-Americans are?  Rand Paul and Mike Lee.  They’re not even worthy to be called “senators”.

 

 

The Real Candidate

The Real Candidate

Twenty Democrats have spoken.  Each has had their initial chance to tell America why they feel they would make a better President than the SHITHOLE we have now.  Of course, considering the current “president”, these twenty people didn’t have to really say much to prove themselves.  A flea on a rat would make a better “president” than SHITHOLE.

On a more serious note, I want to tell you who I”m voting for.  I’m voting for the REAL candidate.  I’m done with fake, because that’s what we have now.  By real I mean the person, man or woman, who does not try to impress me by speaking Spanish, French, Dutch or any other language than English.  Because I’m not impressed.  The fact you can speak another language is great.  But tell me, other than the fact you can speak another language and SHITHOLE can’t, how is speaking another language going to make you the kind of President America needs?

By real I mean the person, man or woman, young or old, who understands what Americans go through in their everyday lives.  All Americans.  Rich, poor, middle-class, homeless, immigrant, undocumented.  Working.  Unemployed.  Mothers.  Fathers.  Grandparents.  I want the real candidate to grasp exactly how Americans live.  How many struggle to make ends meet.  How a working family of two is barely getting by and is not saving a cent.

By real I mean the person, man or woman, black, white, Latino, straight, gay, bi, trans, whatever, who knows what Americans want in healthcare, education, gun control, climate control, immigration and basic human rights.  I want the REAL candidate to not only KNOW what Americans want, I want them to UNDERSTAND why they want it.

I don’t care what race you are,  how old you are, what sex you are, what your sexual orientation is, what religion you are, what school you went to, how many languages you speak, if you were in the military, if you play piano, the oboe or the trombone, if you are married, have kids, have pets and vacation in Europe.  None of that means anything to me if you aren’t at first REAL.

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Amazing Act of Kindness — Mums Advice

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I would like to share something incredibly special with you all. A day we will never forget. Today we took our little boy Ralph to Universal Orlando Resort for the first time. Ralph is awesomely autistic, and we are proud to be a neurodiverse family. As wonderful, loving, intelligent and incredible as Ralph is, sometimes […]

via Amazing Act of Kindness — Mums Advice

Passing The Torch

Passing The Torch

Last evening a generational torch was passed.

It was my 14-year-old daughter’s first concert.  At the same venue I attended my first concert thirty-six years ago.

In 1983 the place was called The Centrum.  The artist was Rick Springfield.  In 2019 the place is called The DCU Center.  The artist was Pentatonix.  As in 1983 souvenirs were purchased and memories were made.  The artists may have changed but the venue has not and is showing its age of nearly forty years.

As in 1983 there is still a need for more women’s rooms and the seats still feel like concrete.  But as it did for me in 1983, and as it did for my daughter in 2019, the music rocked.  It entertained.  It brought a continuous smile to my daughter’s face.  She had the time of her life.  To me that’s all that matters.