EPSTEIN Files, Please, DOJ Pam Bondi
While we watch aghast as ill-trained ICE agents take down and kill American citizens, and Pam Bondi demands voter registration rolls from Minnesota (and according to the Brennan Center for Justice and Democracy Docket, looking for “sensitive” voter registration information from ALL states), 2 million (estimated) Epstein files have yet to be released.
Minnesotans are the least likely “domestic terrorists” ever, dressed in their buffalo plaid wool shirts and snow boots. Minnesotan, those white bread Scandinavian immigrants from long ago, Paul Bunyan-esque in strength an behavior, amicably welcomed their Somali newcomers, and are now protecting them as best they can while staying alive.
We all have to step back and ask ourselves “Am I a DOMESTIC TERRORIST?”
Look at these good church-going Minnesotans, shuttling immigrant children to school, picking up and delivering groceries to them surreptitiously, taking families hidden in their SUV’s to medical appointments. Do these seem like people who are afraid of their immigrant neighbors?
I respect Customs officials. I respect the rules of our nation. I do not respect those who overstep their jobs, who take delight in the adrenaline rush of attacking protestors, who shoot, rather than exhibit the self-rstraint we expect of law-enforcement. Most of us have no problem with ICE going after, as they state, violent criminals, few as they are.
It’s a Numbers Game
What we object to is going after people who are NOT criminals just because the Toddler-In-Chief wants to be able to show numbers. Trump, you started off your campaign in 2015 going after those rapists, criminals and drug addicts. We didn’t believe you then, and we sure don’t believe you now. We believe our own eyes. We are witnesses to violations of our Constitution by people who should be models of legal behavior.
Corrupting the FBI to investigate political appointments, and firing prosecutors when they tell you there is not evidence to get a conviction is not the American Way.
We know you want to keep your party in power. We know you’re afraid you are going to lose big in upcoming elections, and that is the purpose behind bullying the blue states and trying to intimidate their officials is to get an upper hand on the elections. YOU, who complain about rigged elections, YOU who whine that you really won the 2020 election (and your own elections supervisors would not support your claims) YOU are trying to bully, intimidate and subdue the population so that YOU can rig the elections!
Props to Minnesota! Props to them for showing fortitude, for being good neighbors, for welcoming the stranger (as Moses and Jesus taught us) and for showing self-restraint in the face of thugs and goons itching for a fight. Trump is eager to invoke the Insurrection Act, we know because he says so! Props to you, Minnesota, and to you, Portland for having the maturity and persistence and yes, a sense of humor to outlast, outplay and survive this despicable tyrant.
Win, Seahawks, Win!
Important to know, and one of today’s most highly asked questions: Is a Seahawk a real bird? And the answer is: YES! A Seahawk
is another word for Osprey!
Now you Know!
Win, Seahawks, Win!
Orwellian Insurrection Talk v. Free Elections
I am haunted by memories of our Janus-like leader telling people while running for the office of President that if we voted for him, we would never have to vote again. What could he have meant by that? Aren’t elections part of what we value as a Democracy?
I am troubled by a leader who insists that what we saw with our own eyes on January 6th, that the thugs beating policemen, breaking and entering the Congress, chasing down Mike Pence with a noose was NOT an insurrection, not at all what he was going for when he told followers to “Fight Like Hell!” or we would have no Democracy. This leader who said he would be with them, and scurried back to the white house to watch events unfold on his Presidential television. He didn’t call off these hooligans and goons until HOURS after the violence began.
He PARDONED these thugs who invaded the Congress. He now calls it a “Day of Love.” Like we can’t see with our own eyes?
Just in time for Black History Month, he continues to dismantle exhibitions exploring the relationship between the enslaved and the enslavers. If it makes white people uncomfortable, isn’t that appropriate? Is slavery something we want to return to? And who, exactly do we enslave. Like are camera bearing Democrats candidates for the new underclass?
Armed with Whistles and Phone Cameras
J.D. Vance tells us to “lower the temperature” and help the ICE forces. J.D. Vance, you are talking to Minnesotans! You are talking to the descendants of Norwegians, the very nationality our orange leader wants to come to the USA! You are talking to people who have peacefully incorporated people from many nations, welcomed them! YOU created a spurious policy, based on a poorly made video by a social influencer. Yes, there was a child care scandal, and the people charged were not Somali but US citizens! YOU are creating the rise is heated emotions, and those you are shooting are armed with whistles and phone cameras!
Who has a history of creating violent insurrections? Who has sent unwelcome storm troopers into Minnesota? Who is poking Minnesota officials? Who is creating the problem and like every school boy bully, blaming the victim – “You started it!”
Go HOME, ICE. You are not welcome, you are not needed. You are invading the homes of US CITIZENS without a warrant, and laughing! You are shouting “Boo HOO!” to witnesses when you shoot a non-violent demonstrator 10 times! 10 Times! If that isn’t excessive force, what is?
I applaud the citizens of Minneapolis who are standing against this villainy and this bullying. I applaud their self-restraint and their persistence. I applaud Portland, Oregon for utilizing the legal system to lower the temperature and resist the pressure to give the radical bullying thugs any opportunity to raise the stakes.
Self restraint and Persistence while we activate the legal system is our only hope if we want to continue to have free and safe elections, and I believe that is what this is all really about.
Oh! The People You’ll Meet! (Apologies to Dr. Seuss)
Under the category of Stranger in a Strange Land, things change. My generation revolted (and were sometimes revolting) and rioted and demonstrated against the VietNam War and for Equality, Diversity and Inclusion. We marched. We made documentaries. Oh, we were so idealistic.
AdventureMan, my husband, was a warrior from the beginning, and fought in that unpopular war. When he returned home, people were harassing returning soldiers, even spitting on them.
Emotions have calmed through the years, and many surviving fighters in that war, men and women, have had a tough time dealing with their participation in the war. We often see homeless veterans here in Pensacola; the homeless find Pensacola comfortable, and temperate. You can sleep rough most of the year.
My husband keeps his eye open for fellow vets. When he sees someone with a VietNam vet bumper sticker, or wearing a VietNam Vet bill cap, he’ll go over, shake hands, and swap old war stories. It can be a very moving moment for both parties involved. War-fighting is intense. There are things you don’t forget. There are things you do forget, and years later, they come back in dreams, not good dreams.
And there are also fraudsters out there. Some are well-meaning, well enough, or just oblivious. Some are trying to fake an experience they didn’t have.
We had a homeless man here in Pensacola we helped occasionally. When he told us he had also been in the military, AdventureMan started talking with him and soon started looking very confused. “He’s never been anywhere near being in the military,” he told me, “No one in the military forgets where they did their basic training or can’t remember where they were stationed.” Nothing makes a person mad like someone straight out lying.
Other times, it isn’t so manipulative, it is just ignorant. In the local Apple Market, AdventureMan shook a man’s hand and asked where he’d been in VietNam and the man just looked foolish and said, “It isn’t really my hat, a friend gave it to me.”
More recently, out at Peg Leg Pete’s on the beach, as we were leaving, AdventureMan stopped to talk with a man wearing a 7th Cav hat. But no, he had never been in the 7th Cav; he had been in the Navy, and he was a Cowboy Re-Enactor. He also looked sheepish.
People are tribal. The like association. Kids wear Nikes because they want to play basketball like Michael Jordan. Some people wear Florida State hats because they hope Florida State wins the big game, not because they have ever set foot on the Florida State campus. Or Hawaiaan shirts, or turquoise squash blossom jewelry, or Yosemite sweatshirts (me), because of the association. It’s just the way we are, expressing ourselves with tribes, aspirational or not.
It’s a bad idea to give an impression, knowingly, which may be easily discovered to be false. I had a friend once who found an old sorority pin in a thrift store and wore it as costume jewelry. I told her it was a bad idea, that sororities inspire deep loyalties, and wearing a pin to a sorority that you don’t belong to could damage your reputation. I think she chose to wear it ironically.
Living in Doha, where designer copies were cheap and plentiful, one of my Japanese friends told me that she would NEVER buy a copy; that people who know what details to look for would know you were a pretender. Once you got that reputation, you would always be known as a person who couldn’t afford the real thing. I listened and learned!
AdventureMan says, “Be careful what you wear because of the message that it sends. If you didn’t earn it, don’t wear it.” His Dad was a SeaBee, but he would never wear his Dad’s insignia. People may not be trying to fool people, but people will see what you are wearing and make assumptions.
The majority of people wearing military memorabilia actually have a legitimate connection to that unit, and greeting them results in truly wonderful moments of sharing and camaraderie.
Also – if you believe no women were serving in VietNam, you need to read Kristin Hannah’s book, The Women. Women served as nurses, medics and doctors, as Red Cross workers, and in administrative roles. Although not in combat, they served their country and were shot at, wounded, killed, hit by explosives, died in helicopter evacuations. They suffered PTSD and were treated as poorly as the other wounded vets that came out of that war.
Waiting for Snow
Lest you think I sit around between trips finding things to rant about, I will share my Saturday with you.
I am religious. I am a believer. LOL, here is where Catholics and Muslims have something in common – when I say “I am a believer” my Catholic friends think I am Catholic, and my Muslim friends think I am Muslim. Sooner or later we get it all figured out. I believe in a Great Creator, without whom nothing was created, and who is magnificent beyone our ability to understand. I believe he cares about us on an individual basis, and that he wants only good for all of us, whether we agree or not. I do not understand why he gave us all free will, and I know it would be a terrible world without it. I believe God is infinitely merciful.
So in the midst of some of the political horrors of January, I texted a friend and said “I need a meet-up.” We met up this morning at a local cafe and hashed out our lives, just normal stuff, families, husbands, children, and what we CAN do to make a difference. I have a friend from high school, and a friend from college, and friends from almost every post where we lived. We don’t always see one another, but when we need a good connection, we get on the phone – yeh, old school – and it’s like we’ve never been apart. When I need to re-balance, when my emotions are unmanageable, my friends help me recenter. Thanks be to God. At the cafe, I also saw another old friend, of a different political persuasion, and we were delighted to see one another, reminding me that our current differences are temporary, and mendable.
I arrived back home to the aroma of garlic and peppers sautéing; AdventureMan is making beans! We have been informed it MIGHT snow tonight, it is hovering just above and below freezing and a big pot of beans is a perfect hot weather meal.
Birds on the Bayou are chowing down, the fish must be running. We have pelicans plunging, an eagle chasing off a hawk, a cormorant and a heron.
Last year, almost this same time of year, we got several inches of snow. In previous years, I have seen a flake of snow here and there, but last year was a special confluence of factors – humidity, cold, polar vortex and a series of cold dry days in which the snow first fell, and then stuck around. It was like wiping away all the bad, a clean, clear new earth, few cars driving, lots of walking and lots of playing. Maybe we all need to play a little more. Pensacolians love a good snow, and it doesn’t stick around long enough to get old.
Our house is warm, we have a big pot of beans cooking, we have friends, I’ve recovered all my lost-for-a-very-short-time passwords and life is sweet. May you be equally blessed; may all your problems be little ones.
Oh Those Poor White People, Those Poor White Men
First, a disclaimer. I like men. I like men a lot. Some of my best friends are men, of all colors and nationalities. I am married to a white man.
Our Glorious Leader, the Bone-Spur Coward-in-Chief declares (as he has in Executive Orders from Day One of his Regency) that diversity, equality and inclusiveness are discrimitory against white males, and are hurting them.
I challenge Trump to take a look at statistics. I challenge him to tally the ranks of CEOs and Executives in the USA to see just what percentage of each sex and race are in those positions, and in what proportions. IF white males are not dominant, I will eat this post.
Yes. This is a rant. Yes, I am livid. As a woman, I was privileged to go to university, privileged because my own father was sure that women’s place was in the home, having children, taking care of you know, women things. He was shocked and horrified that I didn’t get a teacher’s degree or a nursing degree, or why had he sent me to college?
A very small percentage of women and people of color have managed to get to the highest positions of influence, power and wealth in the United States. So tell me about the poor white men!
For my American friends who scorn the Middle East; I lived in three countries, Qatar, Kuwait and Saudi Arabia where the voters – men – recently voted for the women in their countries to have the vote. These were men who love their mothers, sisters, cousins, wives and daughters and wanted them to have the dignity of choice of leadership in their own countries. They educated their daughters, and even, in Saudia Arabia, would take their daughters out to the deserts and teach them how to drive, even though it was illegal in Saudi Arabia for women to drive. These Arab, Islamic men you denigrate supported the right of females to vote, to have access to good education. At one time they sent them to the United States. I don’t imagine they will be sending their daughters -or their sons – here now.
It is unthinkable to me that these statements are issuing from privileged white men in charge of our country. We’re looking at universities in Ireland and Scotland where universities will, as US universities once did, encourage free exchange of ideas and fraternity, and equality and respect and dignity of all people.
At one time, not too long ago, in our country, we had laws, and those laws were obeyed! We had laws protecting the cleanliness of our air and water, we had laws protecting the rights of citizens – and non-citizens. We had laws against profiting from public office, laws requiring the disclosure of personal interests, and recusal from decisions that might enrich the decision-maker. We had laws requiring oversight of government policies. We had a Supreme Court that acted with impartiality. We had a President who was not above the law. We had alliances with countries with whom we stood shoulder to shoulder for decades against bullies and thugs.
I expect my son will call and warn me that our Orange Acting President of Venezuela is about to take away my citizenship and send his Goons to my door with zip ties for speaking out. Or maybe just come and shoot me in the face as I offer cookies and ice tea?
From Axios: America’s Healthiest and Least Healthy States
(The United Health Foundation was established by UnitedHealth Group in 1999 as a nonprofit, private foundation dedicated to improving health and health care. To date, the United Health Foundation has committed more than $845 million to programs and communities around the world, including a $100 million commitment to help advance and grow the health care workforce.” (from the United Health Foundation website)
This is one of the non-governmental agencies using facts and statistics to measure outcomes of health practices in the USA. Official statistics are disappearing. Entire years of government studies have been deleted from websites. Fortunately, there are people who saw it coming and who recorded the data from the websites, hoping for a future that respects science, research and statistics, and uses that research to create a greater good for us all, and shares that knowledge and best practices with the world.
So Much For Health and Transparency
It started during COVID. Politicians and their Administrations stopped publicizing statistics when the stats revealed their government was doing little or nothing to prevent spread of disease. Now, under the cover of cost reductions and eliminating fraud they are gutting the agencies that maintain the statistics and restricting publications of what few statistics are being gathered. Fortunately, private institutions and individuals are watching, keeping track, and doing their best to keep a vulnerable population informed.
Pensacola New Year’s Sunset over the Bayou
We moved to this house at the beginning of COVID. You wouldn’t think it was a great time to go house hunting or to move, but it worked for us. Almost every day, I thank my husband for moving here (he had said “No more moves!” but COVID made things different.) Almost every day is a sunset – not unlike this one, but no two are identical. Every day. It never fails to thrill my heart. Happy New Year!
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