Category: More Topics

OPINION: What About Charlie?

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OPINION: What About Charlie?

OPINION: What About Charlie?

** “Canonization is the declaration of a deceased person as an officially recognized SAINT specifically, the official act of public veneration.”

**The White House announced that Charlie Kirk will be posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

By Kelli Mathison

 

Charlie? Charlie? Hmmm….Charlie. Charlie Kirk? Mmmm, Charlie Kirk. Who? I don’t know who this guy was but apparently his death beat out Jesus Christ for the top political murder in history.  On September 10, 2025, Charlie Kirk, an American right-wing political activist, was shot and killed while making a  speech at the Utah Valley University campus in Orem, Utah.

So-o-o-o this guy, Charlie Kirk, that more than three quarters of the country never heard of, is getting more fevered press than the crucifixion of  Jesus Christ. Certainly more histrionics than we got when then Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi’s 82 year old husband, Paul Pelosi, was attacked in their home and nearly beaten to death with a hammer by a pissed off MAGA guy. Or on Jun 14, 2025 — House Speaker Emerita Melissa Hortman (D) Minnesota lawmaker and her husband, Mark, were fatally shot in their home by a right wing extremist with little more than a ripple on the political airwaves.

The screaming, red-faced hysteria over Charlie Kirk’s killing is difficult for me to process, much less comprehend. So before writing this little piece for Calamity Politics I decided to do a bit of research. The most obvious question you probably have is, what did I find out about MAGA’s newly canonized martyr when I looked him up online. Charles James Kirk was 31 years old.  He was born and raised in the wealthy Chicago suburb of Arlington Heights. His father Robert Kirk was a recognized local architect who had the distinction of working on Trump Tower. So, Charlie had the benefit of money and great contacts and he used them without hesitation or restraint.

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12 Things That Make Me Smile

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12 Things That Make Me Smile

12 Things That Make Me Smile

By D. S. Mitchell

Welcome to Calamity News and Politics. Calamity is currently based in Southern Oregon, in beautiful Grants Pass.  CNP attempts to present relevant and engaging political commentary, opinion, argument, speculation, and prediction regarding the political news in the United States. CNP also comments on health, wellness, fitness, silliness, games, and just about anything that tickles our panties. Once a month, or so, I do a post entitled “Things That Make Me Smile.” The number of items that make me smile usually change with each individual post.  No reason, just because I can, I guess.

So, take your mind off of politics and policies, including your grandmother losing her Medicaid, you losing your SNAP benefits, the Russian attack on NATO ally, Poland, the total and complete destruction of Gaza by Israel. the attacks by Israel on our ally, Qatar, and try if possible, to focus on the good things in your life.

Today I’m going to keep it short, here are 12 Things That Make Me Smile, how about you?

1.) Being on time.

2.) Daddy’s old work bench.

3.) Blackened hot dogs. Yum, yum.

4.) Talking to my plants.

5.) Living in a vacation town, during the off season.

6.) Slow dancing with him.

7.)  Pizza with a crispy paper thin crust.

8.) Wild strawberries peeking up in the flowerbeds.

9.) Fish On!

10.) Following estate sale signs.

11.) Putting pennies in a jar and watching them grow into dollars.

12.) Watching couples walk hand in hand.

The corruption and scandal in the Trump Administration is going to be around for a longer time than I would ever want, so think of your own 12 things that make you smile, because its gonna be a rough next three years plus years.

Call your congress person, write letters to the editor commenting on Trump policies, start a blog or a podcast, and hit the streets and protest. The next big rally is supposed to be on October 18, 2025. Watch for more information. Come out and protest, ‘No Kings,’ and let’s give our Dictator in Waiting, 10 million middle fingers. Join the New Resistance.

**If anyone is curious the picture accompanying this post is not me, but rather a lovely AI rendering of an imaginary woman.

Worker’s Over Billionaires Protest

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Worker’s Over Billionaires Protest

Worker’s Over Billionaires Protest

“All tyranny needs to gain a foothold is for people of good conscience to remain silent.”                                                                                                                                                  

By David L. Shadrick

This was our fourth protest in a season of protests. As usual Darlene, Vajra, John, and myself parked ourselves on our favorite bench under our favorite shade tree on 6th Street, Grants Pass, Oregon, kitty corner from the county courthouse. The turnout for the Worker’s over Billionaires rally was good, but not great.

I can also report that the opposition turnout, in deep red southern Oregon, was close to microscopic. I counted two rabid Trumpers in the crowd; one flipped me off and the other one, a jogger, stopped in front of my wheelchair and called me a “horrible person” and then accelerated his pace and headed to the safety of 7th street. Other than than those two events things were cool. We got lots of positive comments on our signs, in fact several folks stopped to take a selfie with me.

INDIVISIBLE came through with a new stereo system for our rally. It was cool being able to actually hear the speakers and some great music.  John and Vajra wandered through the crowd checking things out; they told us about a group way up on the other side of the street out of our field of vision that were causing a ruckus. It seems they wanted to protest FOR pedophilia. Holy smokes, I can see why that might cause a fight or two. I suspect they were just a bunch of Trump supporters being A-holes, trying to stir up some shit.

Despite the smaller size of the Labor Day protest in our little town, I will admit that in Grants Pass it was very hot and there were a lot of folks out of town for the last week-end get-away before school started.  With that said, we need to increase the pressure on Trump and his allies. We need to tell ‘ol Donnie Boy we are not going to stand for his masked thugs disappearing people from American streets, putting billionaires on the government dole when poor Americans are having health care and even food benefits snatched away. This isn’t ‘effin Russia, yet.

If these protests are going to have the intended impact they need to be getting bigger and bigger not smaller.  In my mind, turnout is imperative to keeping Trump’s attention. We can’t weaken or tire now; we have another 3 and a 1/2 years of  the Trump despot show. We can’t give in, give up or surrender to this lawless president and his corrupt allies; our freedom is literally at stake.

**Quote by Edmund Burke

I Can Hear Her Breathing

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I Can Hear Her Breathing

I Can Hear Her Breathing

By Karen Tate

 

“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way.  On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.” – Arundhati Roy

 

When I read that quote for the first time, the breath caught in my throat and the hair stood up on the back of my neck as I remembered….

I had been invited to Wisconsin to present at a weekend workshop which turned out to be a more than wonderful experience.  I went thinking I was just going up there to teach women the workshop material, but the sharing and activities I participated in were a beautifully reciprocal dance.  Besides the bonding and the fun, issues I had never quite been able to banish from my psyche had dispersed in the safety of the ritual the night before and I was feeling light and open and gloriously happy and fulfilled.

As the weekend came to a close and the time to drive back to the airport was drawing near, I grabbed a few moments of solitary time behind the dormitory where we were staying located about 100 yards off serene and shining Lake Michigan.  Between the lake and the dorm, trees had been planted in a circle, with barely two to three feet of space between their trunks, and inside the circle was a bench.  I was drawn within the circle desiring a few moments of quiet contemplation in what felt like Nature’s embrace.

As I sat there, enjoying a cool breeze on my cheeks, glimpsing the reflection of the sun on the lake between the tree trunks before me, I suddenly realized I heard a rhythmic breathing.  In and out.  In and out.  Where was it coming from?  In my mind, I began a process of elimination.  I held my own breath for a few moments thinking perhaps here in this small space among this odd configuration of trees I was hearing the echo of my own breath, but no, it wasn’t me.  I looked around to make sure there was no one else there, perhaps just beyond my initial line of light.  No.

I wasn’t hearing the incoming tide of the lake.  I sat there mesmerized as I listened.   No, this sound was coming from this very spot where I sat.  Dare I even utter the next thoughts that crossed my mind?  In this circle of trees, it was as if  I were sitting within the body of Goddess and I was hearing Her breathing  This was incredulous, but I was going to go with it and  just listen, feel, and  receive. I soaked in the magic of this sacred place.  The hair stood up on back my neck and arms.  I felt that familiar cold chill up my spine and my tears turned into sobs of joy.  What an emotional experience!

In hindsight, many of us might speak in metaphor, as perhaps the novelist and activist Arundhati Roy is speaking above, about Gaia or the coming new paradigm of the Sacred Feminine, but this was different.  This experience went beyond metaphor or even feeling inspired in some natural landscape.  This wasn’t merely equating the ebb and flow of the ocean tides with Her breath as we attempt to personify Her and embrace Her mysteries.  This felt as if it were another phenomena of a dimension I had yet to experience.  Was I crazy to even contemplate hearing the inhaling and exhaling…..of our Mother?  Well, sometimes we just have to shut off that left-brain and just feel Her incredible gifts!  Those few minutes sitting in that sacred grove near that beautiful lake will no doubt be some of the most profound and magical minutes of my life.   Thank you, Mother.  Thank you for that precious gift… I can hear you breathing!

Welcome to the Dog Fight

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Welcome to the Dog Fight

Welcome to the Dog Fight

D. S. Mitchell

Elon Musk with his disgusting gestapo rhetoric, U.S. troops patrolling America’s great cities, the destruction of the CDC, the gutting of the EPA, destroying FEMA, and our public health system has lit a fire under a lot of complacent Americans. With the Big Ugly Bill it looks like the GOP took a huge step toward destroying federally funded health care in America. It looks like at least 10,000,000-16,000,000 people will lose their Medicaid coverage thanks to Trump and the oligarch’s running this country. Hopefully,  if we can elect a progressive/liberal House and Senate in 2026 we can turn this disaster train around.

I, like many of you, are so ‘effin tired, I just want to put up my feet, but now is not the time. It seems like I’ve been fighting the same battles  for the last fifty fuckin years. Some days it seems like Trump, in a mere 8 short months is on the precipice of destroying the backbone of this country, our laws, our environment, and our media. As I’m watching his travesty unfold I remember what President John F. Kennedy said about his core values and I perked up and finished calling my list of Democratic Senators and Congresspersons; urging them to keep up the fight. I tell them to take a page from California Governor, Gavin Newsome, and take it to the MAGA’s, challenge them every step of the way, don’t make anything easy. It’s a dog fight.

The JFK quote has been seen a million times, but it is worth another view.  If you are a liberal and are taking a breath, forget it. The GOP and all their ‘effing money are out to screw us all; we don’t have time to rest, or even take a breath. So get up, dust yourself off, drag the sign out of the basement, and hit the streets, the phone, or both. You can have a big impact if you make those Senate and House office phones ring.

So, my sweet liberal friends, gather courage from the words of one of our greatest presidents, “If by a ‘liberal’ they mean someone who looks ahead and not behind, someone who welcomes new ideas without rigid reaction, someone who cares about the welfare of the people–their health, their housing, their schools, their jobs, their civil rights and their civil liberties–someone who believes we can break through the stalemate and suspicions that grip us in our policies abroad, if that is what it means to be a ‘liberal’ then I’m proud to say, I’m a liberal.”

Keep up the fight, the road will be hard and the results slow in coming, but with a determined heart we will reverse the Big Horrible Bill and protect health care and the social contract our government has with its citizens. Right now, I’m saying the words, but I’m not so sure the Good Guys are going to win; it’s going to be up to us to make sure the Good Guys win, but that means the Good Guys not only gotta show up but they gotta fight.

Republican Senators Joni Ernst (R IA), Tom Tillis (R NC) and Representatives Don Bacon (R Neb) and Dusty Johnson (R SD) see the writing the wall and have decided not to run for re-election. Hopefully, Maine Senator Susan Collins will also bail on another term. My God the woman is 72 years old. Is married to a lobbyist and appears to have Parkinson’s Disease. Another six years and she’ll be nearly 80 years old. Please America, let’s retire these people; five terms in the senate is enough! It is time to youth up the Congress. I say that whether they are Democrat or Republican. We need term limits. Term limits in the Congress and the Supreme Court should be a high priority if the Dems can take over the Congress in 2026.

I’m hitting the streets on Labor Day with my crew to make some noise. Rallies will be taking place all over the country. The topic of the protest: Workers Over Billionaires. After a couple hours of shouting and banging my drum I’ll go home and do a taco bar with my friends and fellow protesters; probably with at least a couple rounds of  Margueritas. Have fun and keep the protests loud.

Join the New Resistance Dump Trump

You Still Might be a Woman of a Certain Age

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You May be a Woman of a Certain Age 

You May be a Woman of a Certain Age 

By Cate Rees-Hessel

 

  1. If you were and are a Charlie Girl, you might be a woman of a certain age…
  2. If you know how to use a pencil to dial a rotary phone and save your manicure
  3. If you know what a rotary dial phone is, you might be a woman of a certain age.
  4. If you watched Scooby Doo on Saturday mornings while eating Fruit Loops
  5. If you know who, not what the Banana Splits are, you just might be a woman of a certain age.
  6. If you know the lyrics to the Archies “Sugar, Sugar”
  7. If you know who the Archies are
  8. If you know who Caroline Keene is
  9. If you know who Nancy Drew is
  10. If you know who Franklin W. Dixon is
  11. If you know who the Hardy Boys are
  12. If you know who Gertrude Chandler Warner is you just might be a woman of a certain age.
  13. If you know who the Boxcar Children are
  14. If you “wear a Coke and a smile”
  15. If you ordered a Peter Pan collared blouse from the Sears Roebuck catalog
  16. If you had a Montgomery Ward credit card and called it a “charge-a-plate”
  17. If you ever owned a transistor radio or portable record player
  18. If you watched America Bandstand every week
  19. If you know who Dick Clark was
  20. If you shopped at Thom McCann for platform shoes you just might be a woman of a certain age.
  21. If you still own bell bottoms but were never in the Navy
  22. If you know who Barnaby Jones was
  23. If you know who Buddy Ebsen was
  24. If you know who Lee Merriweather is
  25. If you call Uber and Lyft taxi cabs
  26. If you call 7-11 the corner store
  27. If you know what a penny arcade was
  28. If you remember “Me and my RC”
  29. If your spell checker was made by Miriam Webster
  30. If you know who Miriam Webster was
  31. If you attended the Barbizon School of Modeling
  32. If you attended John Robert Powers Finishing School you just might be a woman of a certain age.
  33. If you know what modeling and finishing schools are
  34. If you attended White Gloves and Party Manners classes at a local department store
  35. If you ever owned white gloves that weren’t for winter
  36. If you ever went through the Red Door
  37. If you read “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe” in school
  38. If you had a color plastic sheet that went over your bunny eared black and white TV set
  39. If you had a silver metallic Christmas tree with a multi-color light wheel
  40. If you think retro and vintage are the latest fashions, you just might be a woman of a certain age.

 

Vol.119

Jeopardy

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Jeopardy

Jeopardy

 

By John Curran

 

Yeah I used to be kind of a news junkie, more like a news nerd actually, but truthfully now its come to such a point that I am just losing interest, brother. Not that I ain’t there. Make no mistake concerning the big picture, when that clarion trumpet calls, I will be there. But for now, and its not more than a sad reflection of the times, that I find my mind wandering now and wondering how many minutes until Jeopardy. I used to love Jeopardy, I’m finding that now, I still do. And ya know, Jeopardy is, has been, and probably always will be, just the greatest damn game show ever. But there was a time, going back to just the last year and for the three years preceding, so four years back, when I was living my life without Jeopardy.

I had no TV. It was a magic time, a time when I became re-inspired as a painter and was again feeling it and doing real serious stuff. It was great. Really great. See I’d left my old place in Texas feeling kind of  burned out after a long number of years there. I’d been doing painting there. I’d been in a great Art program and had been doing good work with this group, even making money selling, complete validation, the pride of that. But real art reflects off the real life I feel and towards the end of all these years in Austin I was getting stale. The life was getting stale in many ways correspondingly. When a problem came about at this time with my local housing arrangement, I jumped at the chance to make a change. And so, not knowing nothing or nobody I came up here to Portland, Oregon and was provided with a decent little one bedroom single guy apartment in an area spinoff of the main metropolis. A small apartment complex, it had kids, that was new. A lot of these places don’t allow kids, or so it seems. It was a small place and what with that it soon became common knowledge that I was a painter. A like artist guy. That definitely raised some eyebrows, people be funny, but it didn’t bother me as far as my work was concerned. I was suddenly so totally back again into what was really some of my best painting ever.

The Afghan sisters who to me were the most beautiful girls I had ever seen, a lineage that carries on in spite of a sad history of repression. I love the way their large family, four girls, two older brothers, mother and father, carried on in their Muslim traditions in the midst now of living in this the modern American society. I was inspired by their obvious love for each other as a family and I’ll say this, the beauty of the Afghan woman is ….Anyway, the two middle sisters came to me early on and they had two paintings that they had done. I think one painted the pizza pie and one painted the cat. They wanted to see if I wanted to buy them. I really did like the cat, it was amateurish but yet…there was something there and hey, what’s five dollars for a piece of original art, acrylic on canvas? The other, naw, but both were pretty good. Ya start somewhere. I’ve still got the cat. It’s a sort of a centerpiece, people comment on it, how like what a great painting it is. I think so too.

 

Memories and Monarchs

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Memories and Monarchs

Memories and Monarchs

D. S. Mitchell

Sharing Something Beautiful

Today I am going to discuss a lovely short essay, by Jennifer S. Kushnier. I originally saw it printed in one of those little books you see at Hallmark card stores. You know, the kind. They are usually really small and have lots of cool art, quotes, short stories, or essays.

Anyway, this little essay by Ms. Kushnier  reminded me of my childhood. When I was a kid, even in city neighborhoods there were plenty of vacant lots, some were quite big, really open undeveloped fields where beautiful things happened. Thank you Jennifer, your piece was lovely and charming and brought back those childhood days as if they were yesterday.

Butterflies by Jennifer S. Kushnier

Jennifer began her essay with the lines, “All kinds of wildflowers prospered there, from ivory Queen Anne’s lace and purple Clover, to yellow Buttercups and Black-eyed Susan’s, to burnt orange Indian Paintbrushes and those light-blue flowers that seem to be so rare these days. To this field came dozens of butterflies.”

Island Life

That little essay takes me to another time, a distant point in my childhood. When I too was very young. At that time my family lived on a dairy farm on a picturesque island. Sauvie’s Island is an amazing piece of land caught between the Willamette River and the Columbia River in NW Oregon, about 20 miles west of Portland, Oregon. Most of the island is a huge wildlife refuge with a few farms, even today, in this busy industrialized time.

Protect What We Love

I can remember when the birds would take to the air, and a sunny day went black. Today, on this protected island the sky will never be so full of birds that the sky is black with their bounty. How long before the Monarch’s will be gone forever, and the Wood Duck a mere memory? I think it is imperative that we challenge the Trump Administration at every turn as they push their fossil fuel agenda. It is dangerous for the environment. A threat to wildlife, a risk to our water supply. The gutting of the EPA could potentially poison everything we know and love. If you love the sight of a Monarch butterfly in flight, if you love the sound of a woodpecker, if you love the beauty of a Wood Duck floating on a pond, if you love the sight of an Eagle on the wing, you are not alone. Please, stand up, speak out, and stop the threat to all the wild places by the fossil fuel pushing madman, Donald Trump.

Thank you Jennifer S. Kushnier. I have tried to find you but I have not seen anything else you have written, but this little piece was just perfect.

JOHN LEWIS GOOD TROUBLE PROTEST

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JOHN LEWIS-GOOD TROUBLE PROTEST 7/17/2025

JOHN LEWIS-GOOD TROUBLE PROTEST 7/17/2025

Editor: As I’ve said before, Grants Pass, Oregon, has for the last decade been a hot bed of MAGA nonsense, but since Trump’s re-election there’s been a lot less hysterical furor and mindless screaming, less red hats, less oversized pickups with giant banners and their requisite over-sized Trump flags. For me, all I can say is thank goodness. I hope the fever for this guy is finally breaking. Hate is not an admirable quality and Trump has taken this country to an ugly place. Give us back MLK, JFK, LBJ, a vision of a better life for all of us, not a chosen few. Give us back common decency. The turnout for the anti-Trump protests have been big all across the country, even in our town of 36,000 the number of protestors has been impressive. The following is an article by my friend Dave about our  recent experience at our fourth protest demonstration in the last 6 weeks. D.S.M.

By David Shadrick w/D.S. Mitchell

I was hot and excited to be at the John Lewis protest march. I was hot because it was 102 degrees. I was excited because I was causing “good trouble.” As usual, Darlene and John and I arrived with our collection of signs, drums, horns, and water bottles. We did not do the march because I’m a fat man at 275 pounds and no one wants to push me in my manual wheelchair the 1.2 miles from the courthouse on 6th street to Riverside Park, even on a cold day.

We get to the 7th street bridge (over the Rogue River) at 5:oo pm, where we joined an already sizeable group of like minded folks carrying signs, banners and flags. Darlene was all happy faced. We fit right in. We found a spot in the shade and joined the demonstration. I began waving my trustee ‘8647’ sign, Darlene had her ‘I like my I.C.E. crushed’ sign, and of course John had his drum and goat horn, and a sign about clowns and crowns.

We waved and hollered at cars  for the next hour, receiving hundreds of honks and thumbs up signs in  return with only a very rare middle finger salute.  In fact, the Trump support was miniscule; like I said there were only a couple of the middle finger salutes.

It must have been close to 6:00 pm when the protesters from uptown met up with us waiting at the bridge. The word was that there was music, speeches, and popsicles waiting down by the river. In disability language that means  deep in the park, “unreachable.”  Slowly the crowd on the bridge began to follow the marchers as they moved into the park, headed to the river

Our little group stayed behind as die hard stalwarts waving our signs on the bridge while most everyone else migrated to the area in the park where they were serving up music and speeches. Quite honestly I didn’t have the heart to ask John to push my wheelchair with me in it down the hill and then in an hour or two, ask him to try to roll me back UP THAT HILL to where our car was parked.  I got the fish eye from Dar when I asked if she wanted to trek down to the river with the other protesters. So with the crew in agreement we headed home for pizza and a couple hours of debriefing.

Here in Grants Pass with each new Trump protest we are seeing fewer and fewer Trump enthusiasts. There was an A-hole in an oversized white pick up truck that delighted in expelling black smoke as he passed the crowd, but even he only came around twice. Fortunately his smoke attacks were ineffective. That was the total pushback the local Trumper’s could muster,  I take that as good news.

Be ready to make more good trouble. Thousands of people are mobilizing for a National Day of Action against Donald Trump and his extremist administration. There are hundreds of planned “Rage Against the Regime” protests scheduled for the first weekend in August.”50 Protests,50 States, One Movement aka 50501.

 

40 Reasons To Smile

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40 Reasons To Smile

40 Reasons To Smile

D. S. Mitchell

Relish Routine

Here at Calamity Politics, a Wednesday is pretty much the same as a Friday, or a Sunday.  I’m not complaining. In fact, I relish it. I am an individual that loves routine. Up at 5:00, in the pool @5:45, walk the dog at 7:30, coffee @8:30. @9:00 I start scanning the internet for breaking news on the Trump fiasco, going on in the White House. I turn on CNN or MSNBC to get their view of the situation. If it’s a big scandal, I’ll turn on FOX to get their spin. I usually leave the TV playing in the background. You get the idea.

Things That Make Me Smile

But, at least once a week, I stop, and consciously think about how blessed I am, and all the things in life that make me happy; those things that never fail to bring a smile to my face.  Here’s 40 Things That Made Me Smile Today:

  1.  Painting old furniture; giving something old a new life
  2.  Danish Brie and California Chardonnay
  3.  New shoes; makes me want to dance
  4.  Nap time
  5.  Visiting the Planetarium
  6.  Palladian style windows, a whisper of elegance
  7.  Flower baskets in bloom
  8.  The Celtic Cross
  9.  My dog, Lily
  10.  Whales and elephants
  11.  A box of old black and white photos, worth more than gold to see my daddy again
  12.  Taking a Community College class and pulling an A
  13.  Towel warmers in the bathroom
  14.   Reading my daily horoscope
  15.   The Bobble-Head toys in the back window of my friend’s car
  16.   The newspaper. A real newspaper, one that I touch, that I unfold, that I read over coffee
  17.   Street musicians
  18.   YSL Black Opium, perfume
  19.   Glass bowl filled with sun bleached shells
  20.   Three-day week-ends
  21.   My new iPhone
  22.   Wall size antique mirrors
  23.   The delicate beauty of Orchids
  24.   Travel magazines
  25.   Roller coasters
  26.   Drawstring sweat pants
  27.   Little boxes of Sunshine raisins
  28.   Hummingbirds feeding in my garden
  29.   Patsy Cline on my play list
  30.   The muted colors of Madras fabric
  31.   Holding a baby in my arms
  32.   Sharing a banana split with a calorie counting friend
  33.   A handmade greeting card
  34.   Author book signings
  35.   Reading scandal magazines at the grocery checkout stand
  36.   Having help with a big job, four hands are always better than two, if you have six, all the better
  37.   My kitchen junk drawer
  38.   Wrist corsage
  39.  Pagodas in the mist
  40.  Fog horns in the night

The  Protests Go On

I’m about to go watch the kids fly their kites. It is just about a perfect day for kite flying; clear sky, great breeze and a strangely lonely beach for this time of year.   Have a great week, and remember we always have time, to smile. I’m hoping that while you are grinning ear-to-ear you are busy planning for the July 17, 2025, “Good Trouble Lives On” protest. Make a new sign, The protest will be the fifth national day of protest against the Trump administration. The protest will also honor Civil Rights activist icon, congressman, John Lewis. Turn out; make your voices heard. No cuts to Medicare, Medicaid, Social Security, VA benefits, SNAP or Child Tax Credits. Call your congressman/woman tell them to stop the Big Ugly Bill.

Join the New Resistance

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