What Day is it?

The day began as a blur. I slept well but deeply, likely too deep. It is nearly noon and I still can’t remember that it is not Thursday. Since it is apparently only Wednesday, I will have imbued my week with an extra day. It will be Thursday twice! It really doesn’t matter; my calendar is clear for the week. This is likely the effect of retirement. We don’t define ourselves by the calendar except to pay attention to doctor visits. Haircuts. Eye glasses.

I suspect that since summer doldrums are mundane, that the news seems overhyped, the preoccupation with the Presidential candidates excessive. Our choices are less than sterling. No innocence anywhere. Nor should there be  just jaded. If you have not been watching, or you live under a rock, or your name is Goldilocks, then you don’t know there are wolves all over the place and you, voter, are going to be dinner. We have had eight vapid years of the weakest leadership I have seen in fifty years. We have been duped, blatantly lied to, ignored and cheated for so long it seems normal. Whoever wins the next election will likely dish up more of the same. That is because we as a nation currently suffer from a dearth of people who actually care about things other than themselves. I give you Ben Rhodes, who takes pride in duping the public. Brags about it. In your face. Four hundred million dollars to Iran to buy back four American hostages? My money. Your money. Excuse me?

Here I am, out here to be fleeced, right along with you. I have noticed lately that I’m a shorn lamb, with little left to my hide. I know absolutely that this is true for countless other sheep in the pasture. Seniors in this country are discarded like worn old clothes, having given most of all they have for dubious purposes. Did I miss something? A huge block of voters with no champion? How about “Old Lives Matter”? How far would we get with that?  It’s summer. Way too hot to march around in the sun carrying posters on a stick. I have not noticed that we have a block of dedicated senators singing our praises or anything else about us.

Weighing in on the Trump candidacy, President Obama pronounced Mr. Trump unequipped to be President. Note that the man said exactly the same of Mr. Romney. I think it possible he’d say that about anyone not a Democrat. Easily discountable. Mr Trump needs to keep his eye on the ball or he will lose the game. That is the designated tactic by the opposition. This is a diversion from the devious Democratic candidate who bears watching for as long as she breathes.

The leader of this parade is the media. That would be the failed media who believe their work is to shape the direction of the nation. Nada. That would be us, fools. The people. Not the rags that think they are our mouthpiece. Are you not sick to death of being so manipulated to their abusive use? Who speaks for the American people without their eye to how to use us? I suppose I’m sick to death of those who would determine what it is I want, and how to use me to get it. Hmmmm. Must check my calendar because this is starting to feel more like  Monday.

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