Category: More Topics

Women of a Certain Age-Fall Edition

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Women of a Certain Age – Fall Edition

Women of a Certain Age – Fall Edition

 

By Cate Rees-Hessel

 

Fall is here – a sea of pumpkin spice abounds, but if you are a woman of a certain age, fall memories are just a bit different…

  1. If your autumn recollections involve apple cider in a paper cup with fold-out handles, not a pumpkin spice latte, you might be a woman of a certain age…
  2. If you have memories of jumping into a mountain of leaves while raking and not worrying about smashing your cell phone…
  3. If fall fashions from your past include Peter Pan collared plaid dresses…
  4. If penny loafers with shiny copper pennies in the slots and argyle knee socks were part of your wardrobe staples…
  5. If you ever wore a plastic mask that made your face sweat, along with an acrylic one-piece costume for trick or treating – Barbie, Miss America, the Beatles, and Casper the Friendly Ghost were popular…
  6. If you ever had a Hoody-Doody costume…
  7. If you love a good hayride and know to tie an old plaid shirt around your waist before you sit down…
  8. If trunk or treat didn’t exist when you were in grade (or grammar) school…
  9. If an old sheet with two holes for eyes was your go-to Halloween costume, with the matching pillowcase to hold the candy…
  10. If your fall favorites include apple pie with cheddar cheese on top…
  11. If you recognize the scent of burning leaves…
  12. If you had a school Halloween party that included bobbing for apples…
  13. If you ever attended a Fall Fest in your neighborhood…
  14. If you know the lyrics to “Monster Mash”…
  15. If a Butterball turkey stuffed with homemade dressing not from a box, and mashed potatoes made from potato buds were front and center for your Thanksgiving dinner…
  16. If you never heard of tofu turkey and still don’t know what it is..
  17. If cranberries and apples in the slow cooker are still part of your fall cuisine…
  18. If you received a Sky Bar or Bit-O-Honey in your trick or treating ventures…
  19. If you know what a Sky Bar or Bit-O-Honey is…
  20. If you found Razzles or Pop Rocks in your trick or treat bag…
  21. If you ever had a red hard candy coated apple…
  22. If you ever broke a tooth on a red candy coated apple…
  23. If you watched the original “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” on broadcast television…
  24. If you watched the original Charlie Brown Thanksgiving on network TV…
  25. If while walking your dog you made a swish-crackle sound when autumn leaves flew through the air around you…
  26. If you attended the fall Sock Hop in a plaid skirt and twin sweater set…
  27. If you know what a Sock Hop is…
  28. If you weren’t afraid to eat the homemade treats in your trick or treating haul…
  29. If you went to the drive-in to see a movie on closing weekend…
  30. If you know what a drive-in movie is…
  31. If you watched the Macy Thanksgiving Day Parade in black and white…
  32. If you know Chuckles is not just a clown…
  33. If you know Mary Janes are not just back-to-school shoes…
  34. If you ever wore a candy pop necklace…
  35. If you know Dum-Dums are not referring to Republicans…

 

Happy fall, ladies of a certain age, no matter what the season, we always have style…

 

Perfection, Imperfected

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Perfection, Imperfected

 

Perfection, Imperfected

 

By John Curran

Well, let me tell ya. It’s hard being a radical leftist bloodthirsty murderous lunatic who hates America, God, and even apple pie. I’m telling ya, as Rodney Dangerfield would say, “I get no respect.” So, once they tarred and feathered me for too much space taken up by my tent in a designated enclosure, I just said enough is enough. All my friends, some of them homeless people, that’s right I admit it, anyway they all said….Phoenix, Arizona? Why would I want to go there? Well the answer was I just threw a dart at my USA wall map ‘n that’s where it stuck. So that was it.

When I hit Phoenix, I looked for a job at this organization that I must keep secret as my good reputation is on the line. I applied for the job of janitor. I was invited up to Personnel. There was a group of them when I walked in, a dozen or so, all sitting in a circle. There was an empty chair in the middle of the circle, that was for me. “Sit yourself down right here ‘ol timer,” says the one guy, standing tall. The others, all dudes, were seated. They were all young.

“So, you want to take out the trash and stuff like that, huh? says the tall guy. “Well tell me this then, do you believe in Jesus? Well, they all turned to me intently, as if everything, everything, depended on my answer to this, and so I told them, Yes, I do. He’s a good neighbor. His last name is Garcia, Jesus Garcia, a very good next door neighbor. Of course this was all just made up. I was just lying to see how far all this would take me. The circle seemed to find all this amusing. Tall guy then asks me, “Would you die for this Jesus Garcia?” Well, I said, I would, “of course,” and that my cat would too, and has in fact,  only recently come back from the dead. “The dead, the dead, yeah I like that,” says Tall guy and proceeds to get a chant going, “The dead, the dead, yes we do, we love the dead, the dead, the dead, the dead, the dead….”

And boy I tell ya they got going with that one, sure did. This spontaneous levity in fact took a few moments to die back down, before calm was finally restored. Tall tells me, “you can empty trash buckets but first the Queen must give final approval,” and then in walks this gorgeous blonde who walks right up to me and tells me that first I better get a haircut, the ‘company cut’ it was called. The idea being complete similarity to all the rest.

And then I woke up. Wow, wicked dream. Hey, no more late night Fox News for me, brother. And so I got up, got dressed, ‘n saw the sun was shining. I knew I was late but I did not want to miss the Sunday service, where I wash the feet of the homeless.

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.