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Reflective Republicans need to surface and say, “Enough already.”
As Will Rogers conjectured, “I bet after seeing us, George Washington would sue us for calling him 'father.'”
Depending on the day, I might experience a number of different emotions regarding this election.
My wife said she’s glad her mother and aunt are not alive today to witness the Republican presidential primary.
I consider myself a feminist, and think any man who isn’t as either ignorant or a chauvinist.
To liberally paraphrase George Wallace: Feminism now, feminism tomorrow and feminism forever.
No father wants to imagine it. Of being reduced, for all intents and purposes, to bedridden vegetable matter.
We all know our outcomes. What happens upon death, well, I have definite opinions on that subject, but this column is about considering only how we “give up the ghost.”
The better it is for women, the better it is for men.
The better it is for women, the better it is for men.
Trump is a tawdry confidence man, the quintessential bridge salesman. So sad for those buying. All Americans for that matter.
I learned a new word during my research for this column. And I am amazed that I did not see it used once during the presidential election. Trumpery.
Make a day seeing the stunning splendor of Winter Park.
Winter Park is worthy of its motto as a city of “culture and heritage.” And I unequivocally add “beauty” as exemplified by the peacock adorning the city seal.
I lunch every Thursday with my former boss. I love the man.
It recently dawned on me that I have spent more time with this man than I did with my father as an adult. This realization saddened me, not my time spent with Louis, just that I was not more available for my father.
Pardon expected after January inauguration
Mr. Trump was — as detailed on Snapchat — greatly impressed with Madoff’s grand vision of deceit as well as his superb execution of the massive fraud.
I thought a Trump Primer was in order to set the millions of Trumpian numbchucks straight.
Why did so many Americans willingly check their brains at the door (while in the election booth voting for Trump) when the candidate himself campaigned on a platform of outright lies, half-truths and deception?
Should impoverished Americans be encouraged to have children?
Some will argue that it is hard-hearted and immoral to suggest that the poor not reproduce. I think it absurd and ridiculous to not expect the “financially challenged” to exercise restraint, to bring forth children only when their economic circumstances warrant (change).
I’m thankful to be living in a nation that honors and respects speech, dissent and opposition to authoritarian abuse, of any persuasion.
I’m thankful for the freedom to call a spade a shovel. Trump is a national embarrassment and an undeniable danger.
I am a relatively tolerant person when it comes to accepting the diverse human expressions of individuality. But...
What I expect of my fellow citizen is that they see themselves as part of Team America, that ultimately we are all in this together and that we all have obligations to each other as citizens of the United States.
What comes to mind is watching the Twin Towers (9/11) come down and that pit in your stomach that turns and turns and turns.
We’ve elected a man who publicly ridicules handicapped Americans. Unbelievable. He mocks and mimics their stuttering speech and shaky body movements. So shameful.
Hillary Clinton, for all that we know and understand about her, is worthy of your vote.
My gawd, will it ever end? If you had to create a presidential campaign from hell, 2016 is it.
Mica would intrude on a woman’s (your) personal medical decisions by injecting his politics into the exam room.
I ask the women of Central Florida: is there any more fundamental issue to you (and your daughters and granddaughters) than that of “owning” your own body?
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.