I cannot for the life of me understand how Donald Trump’s approach to women serves him well in bed.
Trump has that oh, so sexy bulge . . . in his back pocket that obviates his obvious shortcomings.
The idea, the concept of time has always fascinated me. That we have only so much time, however, crystalized for me with the birth of my daughter in 1970.
How do you want to spend your time? We all ask that question. How we answer often determines the course of how we live life.
Say what? Do you find it challenging to keep all of Don the Con’s hyperbole and B.S. straight?
Hillary Clinton skewered Trump in the first presidential debate. She opened him up with knife-like precision and out oozed the banality, utter nonsense and lies we associate with his candidacy.
If we lived in the “best of all possible worlds,” all of America’s corporations and businesses would be honorable.
If we lived in the “best of all possible worlds,” all our nation’s school districts would offer equivalent high-level educations for all of America’s students.
I’ve been considering the course of this presidential election and how I might influence its outcome.
I believe I’ve stumbled onto an issue that will swing the election to Hillary Clinton, my preferred candidate.
If you were asked, say at a dinner party, to give your definition of progress, how would you respond?
My question to you and your dinner companions: is this progress? Is more humanity—in and of itself—progress?
You comported yourself as president with dignity, aplomb and wisdom.
Return to your roots as a community organizer. Chicago is where it all started for you and now more than ever Chicago desperately requires your leadership.
Canadians are laughing at us. They think Americans are a bit daft.
Should America elect Trump, our Canadian neighbors won’t be laughing. Few of us will.
Few of us would be alive today, arguably, if we necessarily got what we deserved. Few of us are Snow White.
We’re murderous creatures, we humans. We kill in self-defense. Of course we do. We kill to protect loved ones, particularly our children. We kill in the name of patriotism.
I ask Marco Rubio the question that my father put to me when I spoke with pious certainty, “Who died and made you Pope?”
Marco Rubio claims he’ll, “err on the side of life.” What exactly does that mean? Whose life should “we” err on the side of?
This is my challenge to all rational thinking Americans: Identify and convert the wavering sane.
Don-the-Con Trump is a superficial huckster. Many of us understand that. He’s not at all the successful businessman he portrays himself to be.
Much of the current economic malaise (and wars) is a direct result of Republican deceit, corruption and misrule.
If you vote Republican, I recommend you move on and not bother reading today’s column.
My entire life I have been hearing and reading about police brutality of minorities. It has only been in the last few years that we are seeing the graphic reality (via cell phones).
I cannot get my head around why some white folks don’t get Black Lives Matter. Are they racist? Are they stupid? Are they uninformed? Are they brainwashed?
I vacillate between being extremely disturbed over the direction of America (and the world) and to not so much giving a damn.
Historically, more (some) are living better than at any point in history. But it all seems so fragile, our “democratic” way of life.
In the best of all possible worlds our elected officials would be held accountable for their decisions.
When egregiously wrong, when lives are tragically lost, when lives are horribly ruined, when the treasury is bankrupt, bodies must hang from the yardarms.
My opinion is America is unquestionably better because of the vitality, energy, creativity and humanity of all its citizens. All of us.
I grew-up insulated from diversity of all types. That’s not a personal indictment. It’s neither here nor there, it just is.
Sen. Rubio understood that if he acted honorably by keeping his word to leave the Senate that he’d soon be yesterday’s news.
Poor Marco Rubio. He’s young. He’s good looking. He’s Latino. He’s bilingual. He’s so very ambitious. Sigh, but he’s also poor.
The founding of America and our subsequent ascent to being a world power is a mixed bag of promise and vision leavened by reality and human nature.
For years, I’ve thought about American exceptionalism, what it is and whether or not it is mere national jingoism that America is “special” among the world’s nations.
My Sunday mornings consist of the most sacred of moments, of coffee and the New York Times.
That 49 were murdered because of who they are or who their friends were is antithetical to my ideal for America.
If Trump is the actual spawn of Satan, what then to make of his minions?
This is a particularly sad column this week because my wife is having a bad hair week as a result of Donald Trump.
I am especially old when it comes to modern communication. My cell phone is in the console of my vehicle. It is never on.
I tell my 13-year-old grandson that Gramps is old. I don’t feel particularly old at age 67 but I am nonetheless old.
Ah, the conundrums of modern life. Is ignorance bliss?
Are we righteous human beings when we collectively participate in the ecological destruction of our Mother Earth?
My answer, “One bite at a time.”
I was, at the time, in the St. Petersburg Dali Museum and had bought a T-shirt, only to be informed that I purchased what is considered feminine wear. It’s a little snug.
We are told all our lives not to be judgmental. This is ludicrous.
From the moment I arise, I make judgments. On how I feel. On what I want to accomplish that day. On whether or not to take “that” phone call.
I fear that if elected she will involve America in more Middle East interventions.
My problem with Hillary Clinton as president centers around her “history” of supporting American aggression abroad.
I’m closing in on 70 years of age. In three years I’ll be in my eighth decade. As I tell anyone who listens, pretty soon the years will add up.
When I die, I will be the last to ever know what a grand, tough dame was my mother’s mother, Edith Moore. And so it sadly goes. For all of us.
My biggest complaint — gripe, if you will — about Republicans is that they unambiguously have an agenda but no plan.
The irrational mind is the one irrefutable impediment to American greatness, concomitant to having an agenda but no plan.
Go to Cedar Key to walk and unwind. I’ve taken bicycles a couple of times but walking will get you wherever you might meander.
Cedar Key has an enchanting cemetery, perched on what passes for a hill there, with the Gulf of Mexico lapping on three sides.
I was so moved by Donald Trump’s suggestion, nay recommendation, that gals who get abortions also get a good whacking that I came-up with a few of my own.
Perhaps you’ll be so moved as well that when you write out your check to the GOP, you’ll request that your gift underwrite a solid caning of some particularly egregious offender.
I have problems with both Democrat candidates for president.
My major concern with Hillary Clinton, and it is “huge,” is her foreign policy perspective.
I recently spent six sorrowful hours in a hospital emergency room tending to someone I care deeply for who had come in harm’s way.
I stood in a corner, book in hand, quietly observing the intake staff expeditiously dealing with the pain and misery of those who, no doubt, wished to be anywhere but a hospital.
I’ve done two “positive” things in the past couple of months for my mind and body.
What I’ve done for my mind is join a club. I know. I know. I confess it is not in “my nature” to join anything.
The current Republican presidential primary race may be the most degrading national political contest since 1800.
The ultimate Republican example of pornographic politics is their relentless use of the dog whistle of racism.
There’s happiness and then there’s happiness.
The ecstasy of an early romance is one kind of happiness. The happiness of a lifelong committed relationship quite another.
If you had told me last summer that Jeb Bush would be cut from the presidential race by February 2016, I’d have said, “No way.”
I offer the following as to what Republicans want to achieve nationally, I call it the “Kansasfication of America.”
I’ve often thought it egocentric for Americans to claim “they” are exceptional vis-à-vis the rest of Earth’s humanity.
Why am I particularly exceptional from say, a Syrian immigrant fleeing the ravages of war?
I, like all my readers, am a mixed bag of competing qualities.
I am by nature an optimist but I think most human beings are, if they are lucky.
What is it with white boys and women’s bodies?
There are – right now – a number of initiatives in the Florida legislature that would further restrict or limit a woman’s reproductive rights.
How far down the rabbit hole must our politics descend before we take a collective breath and say, “Enough with such foolishness, we’ve adult problems to attend to.”
I fear our descent is only beginning.
It’s hard to find any separation of church and state within the Republican presidential field.
That our Founding Fathers purposely omitted any reference to God in our U.S. Constitution fails to enlighten the faithful that separation of church and state was their specific intention.
The idea of white privilege is a controversial subject in America today.
The idea that white folks (such as myself) have a leg-up in America simply on account of their skin color is undeniably true yet controversial.
How can any reflective citizen not think about our nations’ future . . . in specific outcomes?
Quiet candidly I have no respect for Americans who do not think about or consider such matters.
It’s that time again, dear reader, when you send in your recommendations for the Best of Winter Park.
Our fair city has so many fine experiences that the challenge is separating the best from the better.
Santa, it seems we’ve given up in America on being trim, fit and healthy.
We’ve lost our national collective willpower to control our ravenous pie holes. We eat and eat and eat.
The desire for certainty that we all crave is what is so unsettling about the times in which we live.
If you are a reflective individual, it has occurred to you that certainty is ephemeral.
The answer to America’s prayers? More prayer it would seem.
Keep guns in the hands of everyone because, "Guns don't kill people; people kill people."
Just about anything goes better with a symphony. Champagne. Frivolity. And, of course, Christmas.
To say that Schillhammer has turned in a virtuoso performance as executive director is an understatement.
When reading the history of warfare between nations/peoples, one might legitimately ask, “What are the causes of human conflict?”
That our collective history (as a species) is one of mayhem, war and sorrow is really of little surprise.
I’ve read history all my life. I enjoy it almost as much as fiction.
Wait. History is fiction. I like to think not. It is suggested however that, “History is written by the victors.”
Imagine if women had had a seat at the table the past 7,000 years as equals to men.
If I could wave a magic wand and change one thing about the history of our species, it might be the tragic marginalization of women by men.