"The taxpayer – that’s someone who works for the federal government, but doesn’t have to take the civil service examination.” President Ronald Reagan
February 13, 2013
But what was "love,” I asked myself?
It was bunches of posies and cards in red envelopes with beautiful words inside on Valentine’s Day, of course. But love itself, what was it?
I knew sometimes it was blind. Sometimes it turned out to be only words and nothing more.
In my heart I believed it should mean you are there for me, believe in me. That you would not lie to me and that I can trust you.
So I listened to him, but in the back of my mind I remembered. I remembered that he had cheated on me in the past, and yes, he had lied to me, too.
I liked when he told me we all have to get along and work together.
I felt better, relieved really, when he told me he was tackling reducing the deficit that we had, when he assured me that "the Affordable Care Act was already helping to slow the growth of health care costs,” even though there was that niggling thought in the back of my mind: "It hasn’t been fully implemented to be able to measure that yet,” I thought.
But instead, I pushed the thought away.
When I turned for advice about him from others, they said they liked what he said, Frank Luntz’ Focus Group on Hannity did, too. They didn’t believe him, but they liked what he said.
Then I remembered reading the New York Times and I think a Gallup Poll that 60 percent of Americans disagreed with his policies across the board and thought the country was going in the wrong direction. But still after all, they liked the speech. It was a positive speech, they said. It said what needed saying, people said.
I wanted to believe him, but I was confused.
Frankly it worried me that he insisted on going after "the rich” for not doing enough in sharing their money, those billionaires who were ripping off humble secretaries tax wise. That had better stop, he told me!
And it rankled when he told me he would do something about global warming himself if Congress didn’t. Much of what most call weather, he was calling "global warming” and I was conflicted, especially when I thought about Al Gore and cap and trade.
I felt shocked and disheartened when I saw the green ribbons adorning the lapels of Democrats and Republicans alike in remembrance of those shot at Sandy Hook and in support of ending gun violence, but never heard him mention the deaths in Benghazi.
I was embarrassed for him that he took credit for success in the fight against Al Qaeda, that he told me "today, the organization (Al Qaeda) that attacked us on 9/11 is a shadow of its former self,” but never heard him mention the deaths in Benghazi.
He told me the "sequestration” was a bad idea, but I cringed. I remembered it was his idea and I knew he was lying to me again.
I began to think that maybe there was someone else for me, someone who was straightforward and true.
Then I thought about Dr. Benjamin Carson, a black, pediatric neurosurgeon with Johns Hopkins Hospital who was criticized for speaking his mind at the National Prayer Breakfast last week.
A lot of people didn’t like what he said and thought he should apologize for his remarks. They thought he had been inappropriate at a non-political event, but I wasn’t persuaded. I’d heard much, much worse coming from my man’s friends, with no apologies ever forthcoming and I thought Dr. Carson was just fine.
"What we need to do in this PC world is forget about unanimity of speech and we need to concentrate on being respectful to those with whom we disagree,” Carson said.
"PC is dangerous because…one of this country’s founding principles was freedom of thought and freedom of expression and it muffles people. It puts a muzzle on them. And at the same time, keeps people from discussing important issues while the fabric of this society is being changed. And we cannot fall for that trick. And what we need to do is start talking about things…that are important.
Raised in poverty, by a mom who was also from an impoverished background, Dr. Carson seemed the antithesis of my man in so many ways.
"I had a mother who believed in me…and who would never allow herself to be a victim, no matter what happened. Never made excuses and she never accepted an excuse from us.”
To fight back against their circumstances, he said she insisted that her kids watch very little TV, read two books a week and give her written book reports. Soon he said he grew to like reading because by reading he knew he could be anyone, go anywhere and this liberated him from poverty.
"I began to read about people of great accomplishment and I began to see a connecting thread…that the person who has the most to do with you and what happens to you in life is you. You make decisions. You decide how much energy you want to put behind that decision. And I came to understand that I had control of my own destiny. And at that point I didn’t hate poverty anymore because I knew it was only temporary.”
I read his words and I reflected on those who did blame others. I gasped. I thought about the high number of people on welfare and the fact that the number was growing and I wondered.
Dr. Carson’s words clearly showed me his love for his country.
In 1831 Alexis de Toqueville marveled, he said, how a fledgling nation barely 50 years old could already be competing with the Europeans on virtually every level.
"deToqueville was going to sort it out,” Carson said, "and he looked at our government and was duly impressed by the three branches of government – four now because now we have special interest groups, but it was only three back in those days.”
"But let me look at their educational system,” deToqueville decided, "and he was blown away. See anybody who had finished the second grade was completely literate. He could find a mountain man on the outskirts of society who could read the newspaper and have a political discussion, could tell him how the government worked.”
His words made sense to me. I had heard constant talk of "the children,” and "education,” but the reality was there was no effort being placed into education and it showed. It’s "complex,” I heard him say, "we need more money for education. Taxes are complex. We need to raise more money by raising taxes.”
But being fair to all was all I could think about. That would be good for all of us, wouldn’t it? To be fair to everybody?
Was I wrong to be "in love” at all?
I thought of what Mark Levin said about the object of my affection, that he was lying again, that his remarks sounded "Castro-like.”
I liked Levin’s truthfulness and I had to admit his admonishment rang true. Sometimes digging through my man’s words was just so much work and when I was done, I knew it was just that. Too much hard work at a relationship that never got us anywhere.
And then I thought, aha! I know a man that will never let me down. He might not buy me candy or send me pretty flowers.
He doesn’t live in the U.S. (but he’s not here illegally either) and I heard he is very accomplished -- speaks four languages (German, Dutch, Spanish and English) and just was awarded a very important silver bowl, an award for just being himself.
That’s why I’m not afraid to commit and say, "I love you, Banana Joe. You are the best friend a girl could ever have. I know you’ll never let me down.”
Hold the line, America.
By: Linda Case Gibbons
Love was in the air. It was the Valentine’s Day-season and it was love at first sight for me.
He said all the right things, in all the right ways and I dearly wanted to believe him.But what was "love,” I asked myself?
It was bunches of posies and cards in red envelopes with beautiful words inside on Valentine’s Day, of course. But love itself, what was it?
I knew sometimes it was blind. Sometimes it turned out to be only words and nothing more.
In my heart I believed it should mean you are there for me, believe in me. That you would not lie to me and that I can trust you.
So I listened to him, but in the back of my mind I remembered. I remembered that he had cheated on me in the past, and yes, he had lied to me, too.
I liked when he told me we all have to get along and work together.
I felt better, relieved really, when he told me he was tackling reducing the deficit that we had, when he assured me that "the Affordable Care Act was already helping to slow the growth of health care costs,” even though there was that niggling thought in the back of my mind: "It hasn’t been fully implemented to be able to measure that yet,” I thought.
But instead, I pushed the thought away.
When I turned for advice about him from others, they said they liked what he said, Frank Luntz’ Focus Group on Hannity did, too. They didn’t believe him, but they liked what he said.
Then I remembered reading the New York Times and I think a Gallup Poll that 60 percent of Americans disagreed with his policies across the board and thought the country was going in the wrong direction. But still after all, they liked the speech. It was a positive speech, they said. It said what needed saying, people said.
I wanted to believe him, but I was confused.
Frankly it worried me that he insisted on going after "the rich” for not doing enough in sharing their money, those billionaires who were ripping off humble secretaries tax wise. That had better stop, he told me!
And it rankled when he told me he would do something about global warming himself if Congress didn’t. Much of what most call weather, he was calling "global warming” and I was conflicted, especially when I thought about Al Gore and cap and trade.
I felt shocked and disheartened when I saw the green ribbons adorning the lapels of Democrats and Republicans alike in remembrance of those shot at Sandy Hook and in support of ending gun violence, but never heard him mention the deaths in Benghazi.
I was embarrassed for him that he took credit for success in the fight against Al Qaeda, that he told me "today, the organization (Al Qaeda) that attacked us on 9/11 is a shadow of its former self,” but never heard him mention the deaths in Benghazi.
He told me the "sequestration” was a bad idea, but I cringed. I remembered it was his idea and I knew he was lying to me again.
I began to think that maybe there was someone else for me, someone who was straightforward and true.
Then I thought about Dr. Benjamin Carson, a black, pediatric neurosurgeon with Johns Hopkins Hospital who was criticized for speaking his mind at the National Prayer Breakfast last week.
A lot of people didn’t like what he said and thought he should apologize for his remarks. They thought he had been inappropriate at a non-political event, but I wasn’t persuaded. I’d heard much, much worse coming from my man’s friends, with no apologies ever forthcoming and I thought Dr. Carson was just fine.
"What we need to do in this PC world is forget about unanimity of speech and we need to concentrate on being respectful to those with whom we disagree,” Carson said.
"PC is dangerous because…one of this country’s founding principles was freedom of thought and freedom of expression and it muffles people. It puts a muzzle on them. And at the same time, keeps people from discussing important issues while the fabric of this society is being changed. And we cannot fall for that trick. And what we need to do is start talking about things…that are important.
Raised in poverty, by a mom who was also from an impoverished background, Dr. Carson seemed the antithesis of my man in so many ways.
"I had a mother who believed in me…and who would never allow herself to be a victim, no matter what happened. Never made excuses and she never accepted an excuse from us.”
To fight back against their circumstances, he said she insisted that her kids watch very little TV, read two books a week and give her written book reports. Soon he said he grew to like reading because by reading he knew he could be anyone, go anywhere and this liberated him from poverty.
"I began to read about people of great accomplishment and I began to see a connecting thread…that the person who has the most to do with you and what happens to you in life is you. You make decisions. You decide how much energy you want to put behind that decision. And I came to understand that I had control of my own destiny. And at that point I didn’t hate poverty anymore because I knew it was only temporary.”
I read his words and I reflected on those who did blame others. I gasped. I thought about the high number of people on welfare and the fact that the number was growing and I wondered.
Dr. Carson’s words clearly showed me his love for his country.
In 1831 Alexis de Toqueville marveled, he said, how a fledgling nation barely 50 years old could already be competing with the Europeans on virtually every level.
"deToqueville was going to sort it out,” Carson said, "and he looked at our government and was duly impressed by the three branches of government – four now because now we have special interest groups, but it was only three back in those days.”
"But let me look at their educational system,” deToqueville decided, "and he was blown away. See anybody who had finished the second grade was completely literate. He could find a mountain man on the outskirts of society who could read the newspaper and have a political discussion, could tell him how the government worked.”
His words made sense to me. I had heard constant talk of "the children,” and "education,” but the reality was there was no effort being placed into education and it showed. It’s "complex,” I heard him say, "we need more money for education. Taxes are complex. We need to raise more money by raising taxes.”
But being fair to all was all I could think about. That would be good for all of us, wouldn’t it? To be fair to everybody?
Was I wrong to be "in love” at all?
I thought of what Mark Levin said about the object of my affection, that he was lying again, that his remarks sounded "Castro-like.”
I liked Levin’s truthfulness and I had to admit his admonishment rang true. Sometimes digging through my man’s words was just so much work and when I was done, I knew it was just that. Too much hard work at a relationship that never got us anywhere.
And then I thought, aha! I know a man that will never let me down. He might not buy me candy or send me pretty flowers.
He doesn’t live in the U.S. (but he’s not here illegally either) and I heard he is very accomplished -- speaks four languages (German, Dutch, Spanish and English) and just was awarded a very important silver bowl, an award for just being himself.
That’s why I’m not afraid to commit and say, "I love you, Banana Joe. You are the best friend a girl could ever have. I know you’ll never let me down.”
Hold the line, America.