Am I the only one who thinks that this waterfall might just be a metaphor for the way the world is going right now?
Back-asswards if you ask me. Which of course you didn’t.
Well, I’m way behind in blog writing, blog reading. Even way behind on watching the stuff I’ve stuffed onto my DVR.
So this clip is nearly two days old, and you might have seen it.
But if you haven’t you should. It’s Comedy Gold.
Stephen Colbert on Sarah Palin’s endorsement of Donald Trump.
Yesterday, I braved the grocery store to come up with an edible antidote to 2015.
I found myself pacing the aisles of the local Giant Foods, and well, I heard voices. Or a voice.
If I were a Republican, I would have assumed it was God.
But as it was, I realized I was talking to myself. Chanting. And naturally I listened. I’m not crazy, you know.
The Voice, my voice, told me what to do. What to get. How to do it. And I saw that it would be good.
You see, I remembered a long-ago gift from my niece that actually held the secret antidote to 2015. Only I had forgotten about it.
Yup. Who woulda thunk that an antidote would be in a cookbook! But this one is special. You see, it was published in 1987, when the folks in government still believed that the government has an important role in the country. When the government is, essentially, how we all contribute to improving our society. Educating our kids, making workplaces safer, the air and the water and the land cleaner. Yeah, I know it was published at the end of the Reagan years, but that cancer hadn’t yet metastasized.
Here’s the antidote to 2015:
As you can see from years of cooking smears, this is a well-used recipe. It is simple and delicious. And I’m going to make it for New Years’ Day — and often between now and November.
Because while this woman eats chicken. She is NOT a chicken.
And the GOP? I see little evidence that the GOP clowns are anything but chicken, can you?
It’s a little hard to read the instructions from this picture —
Combine all sauce ingredients, mixing until well blended. Wipe each piece of chicken dry and coat well with sauce. Place chicken,skin side up, in shallow baking pan.Tuck edges under, forming a compact shape, about 1-1/2 inches thick. Roast in preheated oven at 450 degrees, basting occasionally with pan drippings. Bake until opaque nearly to center, about 14-18 minutes, depending on thickness. Remove to warm plates. Spoon pan juices over chicken and sprinkle with parsley. Makes 4 servings. May be frozen.
On May 29, 2011, I was fifty-four and a half years old. And I was seriously irritated at the GOP in Congress. You see, they had announced that they were going to take away Medicare from those then under 55 years old. And that meant me. I spouted off about it to anyone who would listen.
They’re gonna take Medicare from ME! I’m 54-1/2! That’s where they’re gonna start!
After the first 528 times I mentioned this fact to each and every person I could corner, I still felt unsated. I wanted to tell more people of my irritation. Whether or not I knew them.
And so I heard a voice inside my head (something I rarely admit to):
Go forth, it said, and start a blog.
Oh and give it a stupid name to keep yourself humble.
And so I did. Both of those things. FiftyFourAndAHalf was born with this post.
Blogging has been a completely different experience than I expected.
My original plan was to do a political/humor blog. But in spite of a never-ending source of fodder, I found that I wanted to write about other things, too. That part didn’t really surprise me.
What surprised me was that blogging, and Word Press, became a place where I met new friends, discussed topics important to me. Where I laughed and cried along with folks I will probably never meet.
Thanks, everybody. And while I’ve been writing less than usual and reading less than usual, I love the special place that is the ‘sphere. So, yeah, thanks for being out there, for reading, and for giving me stuff to read too.
Today, April 22, is Earth Day! It’s the 45th Anniversary of the very first Earth Day. Here is Walter Cronkite’s report on the first Earth Day, 1970:
It would also be my late sister Judy’s 63rd birthday.
Whoever made the decision to turn Judy’s birthday into Earth Day chose wisely. Judy was a born environmentalist and recycler.
On the first Earth Day, Judy was a new, very young mother who believed in saving the planet. She was the first “environmentalist” I ever knew personally, and well, I thought she was nuts. There was a recycling bin in her kitchen for as long as I can remember. And this was back when recycling took effort. She believed in gardens, not garbage, and she made life bloom wherever she was.
“I’ve got kids,” she’d say. “It’s their planet too!”
But years later, Judy took recycling to a whole different level when she helped people recycle themselves. In the 1990s, Jude, who was then living in Florida, began working with the Homeless, assisting at shelters. Then she actively began trying to help homeless vets find food, shelter and work — to enable them to jump-start their lives.
When she died in early 2000, the American Legion awarded her honorary membership for her services to homeless vets. A homeless shelter was named in her honor. So she’s still doing good works, my sister is. That would make her wildly happy.
Jude also gave me the Beatles. So it is very appropriate that they wrote a song for her.
You see, the night the Beatles were on Ed Sullivan, it was MY turn to choose what we were going to watch. And we were going to watch the second part of The Scarecrow of Romney Marsh starring Patrick McGoohan on the Wonderful Wide World of Disney. My four (all older and MUCH cooler) siblings were furious with me. But I was quite insistent. You might even say that I threw a Class I temper tantrum over it, but I wouldn’t admit to that. But hey, I was seven. And it was my turn to choose. Fair is fair, especially in a big family with only one TV.
Somehow, Judy talked me out of my turn. She was always very persuasive. Thanks Jude.
Hey Jude, Happy Earth Day-Birthday.
* * *
If this looks/sounds familiar, it’s because I recycled this post from last year. Because you should never use fresh when you can reuse something already written. And you can never get enough of “Hey Jude.”
Have you heard the exciting news? Representative Louis Gohmert ((R-Where Else But F’ing Texas) is challenging Rep. John Boehner for Speaker of the House of Representatives.
“Why?” you ask, “Elyse, you are a liberal Democrat. Why do you want such a stupid, ignorant Neanderthal Teapartier [OK, so I repeat myself] to be Speaker of the House? What better way to prove to ‘Merica that the GOP’s aims are stupid and harmful than having them served up to us on the TEEVEE by Gomer-Fuckin’-Pyle?
In case you’re unfamiliar with him, Gohmert is widely considered to be one of, if not THE dumbest member of either party in either House. Here is a compendium of his, ummm, opinions:
Every time this man appears in front of the camera, he shows himself to be an idiot. So what better mouthpiece for the GOP?
I give Louie my unqualified support. You can too! Just go to House.Gov and contact your own representative. Ask him/her to vote for Louie!
If you haven’t seen this bit from John Oliver’s new show, you should. You should watch it before Tuesday’s election, and then again periodically, just so you remember what I keep telling you. That elections matter. And that it is important to pay attention to not just Federal elections, but to the ones lower down the food chain.
Apparently it takes someone from England, from the country from which we declared our independence, to explain to us just how we are letting our own government get away from us.
Because we don’t pay attention to “the unimportant levels of government.”
Ummm, it is at the state level that we’re really getting screwed. I can attest to this as a resident of “Virginia is For Ultra-sounds.” Yup, it is the folks whose names we don’t even know, who get to decide these issues that most impact your life and mine.
They are also the ones gerrymandering the US Congressional districts. They are eliminating access to abortion, to birth control and screwing us in a hundred different ways. And the state legislatures are the breeding ground, where the Not Ready For Prime Time Players go until they become the Michelle Bachmann’s and the Louie Gomert’s who end up framing our national debate.
[I read recently that John Oliver has been proclaimed the best journalist currently working. I don’t recall who said it, but I think they are right.]
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