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I’d split from work ready to let loose and let my freak flag fly! I’d a foxy old lady hanging at home; it was gonna be a gas(we’re pretty old…). I was sure she’d give me some skin. Can you dig it? Far out.
I’m not sure many of you know the phrase: “A spankin’ good time!” Yep, we used to say it and mean it in a fun way. So much has changed now-a-days, but this here tickle monster rumbles on!
I got home late last night after work to find my five grandsons sleeping over. You know what this meant! It was,’spanking time,’ for everyone! The mad scramble to escape ensued. I’m usually a tickle monster like my dad had been as I grew up, but, no, tonight these good kids needed the spankin’ of their lives to control the silence!!!
“Ah-run for your lives!” I heard their attack call loud and clear.
I saw their strategy immediately. They decided to form one huge pile of boys whereby only one would be left on top to get a pop on the butt! Even Shadow realized he’d better get in that pile, pronto!
It was an out of control battle, perfect for bedtime calm down moments—the kind my wife loves me to start. She doesn’t have to tell me this, I just know by using my secret, ‘Manly,’ instincts. Once she has read to the boys, snuggled them down to soft thoughts and music, it’s time for me to start an all-out rumble!!! Butt why does she always yell, “I’m calling a lawyer! I’m calling a lawyer!!”, at times like this? Ha! That’s a funny thing to say, don’t you think? I never understand how this fits in to a rumble but as I always say, “To Each their own.”
Anyway…
I roared, I blew air out of my nostrils-that was horrible to do during pollen season-I approached with hands clapping with delight!
“But honey,” my wife explained,” They’ve been good all night!”
“Ha, ahaha, ah,,,,” Said the mean ol’ man, me, “All the more reason for the spankin!” (This is the best way to teach logic 101. I bet they do well in the subject).
More wiggling and screaming went on…butt not a one would get away from the tickle monster now gone raving, spankin’ mad!
At last, it ended as I knew it would from the ,’Daddy’s home,’ get-go. Arron, the youngest, known as the, ‘Padded one,’ was to be sacrificed. Bottom’s up!
Of course, this could only mean one thing of many. The fun-time rumble was over and now it was time to brush our teeth and begin the get-under-the-blanket wiggles, to begin the, no, don’t go into the kitchen, no, get off the floor, no, we aren’t watching t.v., no, we can’t go out, hope, this is not a time to draw!, we’re done eating—we’re completely done with food of any kind! Yep, a new phase was upon us, the who’s sleeping where, in what room, on the floor or bed and with which brother or two ordeal of an hour longer had begun!
Then something happened…Me, as the last man standing as my wife snuggled on the couch, the house got spooky quiet. The quiet aliens had landed, slithered in the house and stolen all sound. The silence was loud, or maybe my ears were still ringing, yes, that was it. But none of that explained the aliens. I thought of waking my wife to consult about the quiet but I preferred to live.
The night had ended…sob.
Somehow, with the help of beer(s), I forgot about the aliens and went to sleep.
The next morning I awoke to two-year old, Aaron, standing in my doorway. “Goo morrring,” he beamed a smile.
The breakfast was basically the sound of morning children-birds who’d become a herd of munching faces. A pound of bacon, a dozen eggs and quart of home squeezed OJ consumed and heck, look!, we had room in our frig!?!?!
Then, the children went home; the sky cleared. I looked to my faithful buddy, Shadow, as he rested by the window, peacefully collecting himself after being roughed up the previous day by the Bell gang of five. I looked at him lovingly; he looked at me.
I held up my arms and proclaimed it: ” It’s time for…..a doggie spanking!!!!”
“Wait! Did you say, “Doggie spanking?”
Cheers….nothin’ like having a, ‘spankin’ good time!’Please send any complaints about spanking to Santa Claus—but don’t mention my name. I’m still waiting on the Lamborghini. Thanks.
Franque23
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Sometimes, we might hear an idea and it just feels right. We might go to a place, see a work of art, listen to music or experience a thought and our gut cries out for joy. We’ve all had these moments and they always feel good; refreshing.
(This was done by my Niece, Megan Carlock. I used this as the background to the cover of my first book on kindle, Avatar Magic. Why? It feels right.)
Thing is, it’s not every day that we have these types of experiences; we don’t feel good every day, but could we?
Those who meditate often express a profound sense of peace when they do. But through many years now, only once did I ever meditate and feel a rod of energy sink from my stomach through my sitting butt while also stretching thru my head up beyond the sun and stars until my mind remained suspended in speeding air full of white clouds. It was miraculous! Seven hours slipped by as though it were a minute. The last I remembered before awakening was the sun had warmed my face, the hard ground I sat upon softened, the wind blew and the waves were lapping the shore before me. I’d done it!
I stood up after that moment of seven hours keenly aware that I’d just experienced the most amazing moment of my life. So, did I go on to meditate daily, or most often? Of course not! No. Not at all!
I went on to play music surrounded by clouds of pot smoke, to eat gobs of ice cream, cakes, candies, to slurp down drinks, step in dog poop, to laugh my ass off regularly with friends, to sit in ant piles, to become a man, have jobs, raise a family and be a dad, to hit my fingers with hammers, and, more importantly, seldom , if ever, did I mention my, ‘meditation moment.’ It’s interesting what can get left behind during the consumption of half gallons of ice cream and a busy life of waiting in lines, seeing doctors and having traffic accidents.
.
So what? Sure, I need new flip-flops, but what does any of this mean now? It’s all about grounding, a sphere of thought perhaps old- hat to many but new to me. See, in 1960 sneaker manufacturers started using synthetic rubber souls in a major way* and people were no longer,’grounded,’ to the earth as they walked as zombies through life. Maybe if I hadn’t read Wilhelm Reich’s** theory of, Orgone, in my mid-twenties I’d not be so keen on this theory of grounding now-I don’t know. Thing is, it’s a fact that Wilhelm Reich studies of the life force fields that surround our bodies and travel throughout our atmosphere and the entire universe were Earth shaking rattling! His ideas were so novel when compared to our basic understandings of life that the results of his work and his findings were sealed for 100 years! Let’s face it, the man was so threatening, especially his ability to make it rain which annoyed more than few neighbors, that he was jailed.
Then again, there’s this: so many say they don’t sleep well, or don’t eat well, or have no energy during the day, or just can’t seem to focus, to thrive, to survive our environment’s one zillion pollutants or put up with so many different kinds of joint pains or people like me that it just might be there is one or a few underlining causes for all of our chronic conditions. Curious.
Could what we wear on our feet or the asphalt we often walk on keep our bodies from experiencing the recharging effect the universes’ flowing electricity could give us on a daily basis? Are we short circuited from the recharging, magnetic flow of the earth’s electricity simply by what we wear on our feet? There are reports from studies that show merely walking barefoot for as little as one half an hour per day might alleviate many chronic symptoms so many people live through today. Like that special place, special tune, the face you love, this idea feels right, and a bit like coming home after a long day at the office.
I used to run barefoot through the clover in the grass as a child. Looking back, that all seemed to be about bee stings. Maybe, though, that was about one of the best things? My mom would ask as she dressed the sting, “Why do you run barefoot through the grass?”
All I could say is, “It feels right.”
Children say the darnedest( or darndest) things, but what do they know?
Here’s a link to an article about being grounded, the studies, and hypothesis.
Cheers
Franque23
** Read about Wilhelm Reich,,,https://www.famousphilosophers.org/wilhelm-reich/
bye for now. ( View from our lake house in the Adirondacks.)
“We have to use time wisely.” I heard that.
(About 1973: Santa Fe Spring Art Show.)
The pillow’s story started for me with a 14 year-long leather crafting career. But it was not so for the pillow. No, the pillow had another story, one that found its way into my heart and mind to never forget. How could I ever forget?
I traveled to art shows in the southeast for the Southeastern Hand Crafter’s Association for about 6 years, between 1978 and 1984ish…Thing is, I was scratching to make a living back then—every dollar was counted and hard-fought to earn. It was back then a plumber we would use at home for the next forty years told me, “I’ll charge you the lowest rate: you children are barefoot.”
That plumber was right.
Simply put, I was determined to make it and no amount of cramped fingers or sore arms could stand in my way of earning a buck. Unlike most exhibitors, I kept busy actually doing my leather work during show hours, making a racket hammering out belts while selling them to those who stopped by. The noise from me tooling leather belts peeved some exhibitors—I don’t blame them. Perhaps, this is why an exhibitor, an elderly women, who sat stitching pillows as I walked through the exhibits caught my eye!
It was in the Bradenton Mall, Florida…
She sat behind her table piled high of hand-made pillows just stitching away. Her head covered in grey hair mostly turned down to watch her stitch as she spoke; her fingers never stopped nimbly pushing her threading needle in and out of fabric she held tightly in hand. I felt an instant kinship with this fellow worker and struck up a conversation.
“How did you learn to make such beautiful pillows?”
There was a twinkle in her eye but also a soft , maybe sad smile of remembrance as she laid her work down in her lap and looked to my face.
“You’re the one tooling leather, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I can’t see wasting all my time just selling.”
She laughed, sighed and moved her head left and right. “Of course, we don’t have time to waste; we have to use our time wisely.”
The woman proceeded to tell a sad tale I hadn’t expected. She said she and her family had been rounded up by the Nazi’s and put into a concentration camp—Auschwitz—I recall her naming the place. It is perhaps the only name I would’ve recognized of all the concentration camps. She quickly added that her entire family, sisters and parent had died in the camp—she alone, a young teenager, had been strong and able to survive the torture of the camp. Her younger sisters and older parents were either too young or too old to make it through.
It seemed were it not for this woman’s stitched pillows she might be alone. Silence fell between us, then she spoke again.
“I was freed and located in a home of sorts but there was rent to pay and I had little money and no jobs were to be found.”
I flashed on a town filled with rubble and debris just after the war had ended. I’d seen pictures of so many European towns left in ruins in my dad’s set of World war ll encyclopedias.
“The only thing I had was the memory of mom teaching me how to sew by hand with needle and thread.” Her words flowed easily and set me adrift as though on a stream. She picked up her material again and started to stitch. “I had nothing but that memory, then. I searched through discarded materials throughout town and collected pieces of fabric and anything to use as stuffing. My first pillow sold on the street for an amount equal to one week’s rent.”
“That must have been tough.”
“Well,” the woman smiled my way once more, “I heard my mother teaching me how to stitch as I worked, so pillows gave me comfort.”
“I’m sorry you had this happen to you and your family.” I thought my life had been difficult up to that moment-Ha! What a laugh !
“It’s not your fault.” the women sighed briefly. “I never stopped collecting thrown out fabric to use until I’d gained enough to buy new or used materials to fashion more pillows. There was a furniture factory nearby; thrown out stuffing was to be had.”
At the time, I pictured her as a child of twelve when she was in the Nazi Camp. I tried to imagine what that must have been like…
Pillows in her finished pile varied in theme but ones with birds drew my attention. My dad had a particular love for birds and knew their names and songs. The pillows were not cheap. I traded two 12 dollar hand-made leather belts for two matching bird pillows.
I never saw the woman again, but gave the pillows to my mom and dad who placed them on their living room couch for 25 years. Finally, one of the two became very worn and was thrown out.
My mom died in 2011 and one of the few things I kept from her home was this pillow. I stashed it in my bedroom closet where I saw it for six years every time I opened the closet door . Time to time I would pick up the pillow and hold it. I’d think about the woman who had made this pillow, about her life, her struggle, her beautiful art work and her success.
Then, I’d hear the pillow come to life. “I was a young girl; my family all died.” Silence. “The one thing I had was my mom teaching me how to sew.” I’d hold the pillow close. “There was a furniture factory nearby; thrown out stuffing was to be had.”
One day while holding the pillow it came. There was a flash, and I knew that I had to give this pillow to a lifetime friend, Marc, who’d spent much of his adult life working in Jewish affairs in the NYC area. He was the one this pillow had to find now.
“We have to use our time wisely.”
I got the pillow to, Marc, as soon as I could. And it’s good. I believe it’s now in a holocaust collection, safe, still well made, still there, speaking for its maker, a survivor.
None of us should ever forget.
Franque23
Democrats have held the white house 25 years over the past 50 plus years; Republican 28. During those years Republicans have far more arrests and convictions among White House Republican staff and party members than do Democrats. But how many more?
25 to 1…..
That’s the ratio of those within Republican White House Administration who have been convicted of crimes when compared to the number of Democrat staff members arrested during Democrat White House Administrations….just wow!
It’s just a ghastly fact; a lump sum correct figure that bears witness to the fact Republican administrations are far more corrupt than Democratic ones.
This gives pause to wonder why this astonishing ratio, the vast difference between criminals in these two party’s, is true? Maybe, since the figure spans 50 years or more, the reasons don’t matter while the numbers do. Fact: the Republican party tends to be a corrupt party.
But don’t take my word for it: here’s a quick quote and then link so you can read it and believe it for yourself..
“So, let’s see where that leaves us. In the last 53 years, Democrats
have been in the Oval Office for 25 of those years, while Republicans
held it for 28. In their 25 yrs in office Democrats had a total of
three executive branch officials indicted with one conviction and one
prison sentence. That’s one whole executive branch official convicted
of a crime in two and a half decades of Democrat leadership.
In the 28 yrs that Republicans have held office over the last 53 yrs
they have had a total of (a drum roll would be more than appropriate),
120 criminal indictments of executive branch officials. 89 criminal
convictions and 34 prison sentences handed down. That’s more prison
sentences than years in office since 1968 for Republicans. If you want
to count articles of impeachment as indictments (they aren’t really
but we can count them as an action), both sides get one more. However,
Clinton wasn’t found guilty while Nixon resigned and was pardoned by
Ford (and a pardon carries with it a legal admission of guilt on the
part of the pardoned). So those only serve to make Republicans look
even worse.”
https://www.sheilakennedy.net/2017/07/corruption-by-the-numbers/
Vote the Republican cheaters out in 2020. Trump can dance and sing his praises all he likes, but in 2020 we need to put his lying butt out on the street, if not sooner.
Facts show the Democrats rarely break laws while in power. The Republicans lie, cheat, steal, commit felonies and cast a ,’Damn the Constitution,’ glare over our country when they are in power.
This is why I don’t vote Republican: they work for the upper class only, and cheat their asses off as they do it.
Cheers. (Please share…)
Franque23
I’d found this note in a most unusual place.
Dusty and draped by a cobweb or two, the note obviously hadn’t been read in some time. How long would that be? We’d moved into our house over eighteen years ago and others had enjoyed the house before us-how could it have been in place for so long without being noticed? I think it all a miracle!
It wasn’t even a full piece of paper but just a part of a larger whole. Folded, yellowed and without line, it seemed marked, creased on its outside, by someones’ firm handwriting.
There was no reason to not unfold the paper and read the note; curiosity would clutter my head until I did-I knew. Scanning the words gave me pause.
I fell in love with you at first sight. I knew it then. Nothing was going to keep me from being at your door until you opened it so I might stand by your side. Our faces remained lip-locked for most of that first year, and when we laughed we could feel each others warm breath.
We had no guarantees but for us. Still, that was enough.
We began our journey into space without boundaries and time no clock could keep. We held hands in super markets-remember? We both loved the beach, the waves, sky and wind in our hair. We ran for miles together almost daily without fail; so much young energy poured from our souls, tingled our fingers and itched our legs that we just had to move. And, all the while, a love for you grew inside me that could never be moved.
You became my home.
Nothing much mattered when it came to things, whether we rented or eventually bought a house remained trappings to the core of us that I held on to so tightly. That soft, core place of love within me burned a fire that warmed each day and night. I worked with you in mind and slept easy with you by my side.
Years, so many, have passed, and though we’ll eventually leave here and find a new place I wanted to take this moment to thank you for being you. I want to thank you for those smiles you flash, that small laugh you often sport, for that all-seeing way you guide us to better places, and for your touch that means so much. And, I should mention the chocolate-chip cookies.
I’m so glad I wrote you this note; now, if I can just keep track of it until I give it to you!
There was no signature…
I marveled at the words in this note. Who knows how many years it took this person to finally write them down? Had the other person ever read them? It’s amazing how something this large in meaning might rest for so long inside a person. So much can be buried beneath a life-time of obligation, jobs, bills, some call it progress, beneath all those words that must be said on a daily basis. It seemed I understood it all; life has a way of moving people around their true meaning, the things that really drive them on.
I turned to bring this found treasure to share with my wife but realized that, of course, she was in Japan-a zillion miles away helping and visiting family. I had just me, my dog, and this note. I began to fold the note for safe keeping to share later but the note had vanished! I looked everywhere! It hadn’t fallen to the floor, slid under the kitchen table or scooted under a nearby tattered chair. No, the note had disappeared.
That’s when I found the note in a most unusual place: the one place I hadn’t thought to look.
Of course, the note was back deep inside of me.
Dale, I’ve loved you for forty-five years.
Happy New Year to all of you. Maybe, write a note this New Year’s Day, and never put it away.
Peace and Love
Franque23
*A very blue wave.
A couple of thoughts to light up the season.
- It’s no secret Republicans took a whippin’ in the 2018 mid-terms. The House of Representatives flipped blue by a large margin and likewise Republicans lost State representatives seats across the country. This was much more than a ,’standard,’ mid-term correction vote. This vote was a cry heard loud and clear by both party’s. Republicans were able to hold Texas, slip by Florida and out-right cheat to win Georgia, but over all, the party took a slogging at the polls.
What appeals to me most is this blue wave came about via standard rich donors as well as grass root donations. The tide is more than turning blue, the presence of foreign donations via secret PACS may be washing away, and gerrymandering will be re-whittled in many states. I’d say new people running for office—so many women—(Right? :-))along with Pelosi’s help kept most races on point: on healthcare concerns, medicare and social security. But there’s still a lot of fog surrounding these issues and how best to drive them home in 2020.
2) The charge for climate change is well meaning but poorly framed for those hoping to gain a political leg up in 2020. It’s a discussion that can’t be won by scientifically based facts or mouth foaming, delusional thinking. Nope, the world has spun too many times for any of us to prove warming trends that spell disaster are part of natural course within the World’s environmental history or not.
Nope, arguing over climate change is exactly what Trump wants his opponents to do.
If you like Trump, argue climate change.
If you hope Trump falls into an oil slick laden with Red Tide, argue pollution.
In fact, if you want to win in 2020 steer clear of climate change. Instead, ask voters to raise their hands if they want toxic drinking water? Do they want to swim in oil slick oceans? Let’s count the hands. Do people want to bathe in fracking industrial waste or not? Let’s hear ye! These are issues Trump’s policies fail to address, worse, they add to the pollution of our living environment. The beauty of focusing on pollution instead of harping about climate change is that IF we get control over pollution we will actually be doing all Mankind can do to stem climate change. No, controlling pollution may not solve climate change, but attacking and ending pollution is the best we can do about it. Point: sidestep climate change in 2020.( Put a small boat in your backyard instead.)
Now, a prayer. I pray for wisdom we haven’t seen when dealing with the marching South Americans. Some politicians are starting to ask why we are sending soldiers when we could have been sending help? Yes, the policies of Trump on this issue are plain wrong. If you see a problem coming there may be another way to solve it other than fighting it.
We need more Zen in our leadership.
America, BTW, is huge and loaded with tons of money and power. America can and should have mobilized a huge peace force sort of coalition to march on down to our boarder via govt. funded fare to build housing for these people who flee for their lives and march to the U.S. If you’re getting checks from the U.S. for not working, I say you’re on the planes. We’re going to use as many U.S. products as possible to build communities where these people can stay until entirely vetted, politically and health wise. Bingo American industries of every sort—you just struck it rich by a huge government demand for every commodity you produce! They need food? Bingo, mid-west farmers! Your load of customers just arrived and our tax dollars will buy your food and ship it to where it’s needed.
But where will the money come from to support a Hoover Dam type project to turn an unused place into a living space? It’s called tax dollars—you know the ones our government wastes every day in about every way.
Idea! We could start finding the money needed to house these immigrants by dropping 50% less bombs around the world every day. If we did stop our morbid need to bomb the world, our government coffers would be raining money instead of death and destruction.
Think about it: imagine. The U.S. actually accepts a large immigrant population wisely, securely, without shooting or jailing a single kid! America shows what must be done to support and help our migrating populations the world over!!! How neat it would be for America to become world leaders, the ones who saved the world once again!
There it is: thoughts and prayers done right, without guns but with brain power, might, will, huge amounts of money and a willing workforce. There it is: a booming economy led by successful life giving policy. There would be wrinkles to iron out, but this should have been our focus, not walls, closed boarders and an army.
The up and coming new lot of Democratic politicians understand that thinking straight is easy to do. Here’s five examples of women who schooled together, stuck together and all won seats in Colorado state Legislature in 2018. This article is quite a read; a map to political success and strength.
https://people.com/politics/five-female-friends-state-senate-colorado-won/
Cheers
Franque23….Om
- Please note…this ocean shot is from that ,’sh*t hole,’ country, Mexico.
Pumpernickel was the most foreign thing around the neighborhood back in my childhood days. A salted Frito was the a vanguard chip and guacamole remained a word hard to pronounce or spell. Now? That long ago time resides on the far side of a poorly mark rut in the road of life.
Certainly, I grew up in a part of America awash in feel good innocence. Then, it was a time of hope for those who lived under the disappearing shadow of World War II. We were the champions of the free world; the winners.
Grandpa was proud of his four boys who all fought in WW II (Dad is second from left.)
Flash: think no computers, no cordless phones of any kind, no internet, no chat, no what’s up, no what’s anything but for phones in phone booths or in homes that featured a brand new item: a tube TV with about 3 to 13 channels. Now, I wonder what we all did all day?
Morality was a given…
Every kid knew to cross their fingers if they were going to lie; every guy knew girls were not only softer than boys, but annoyingly smarter as well. Still, none of us perceived a battle of the sexes or a societal wrong that had to be righted. Heck no, elementary school years were filled with just people—guys I palled around with and girls I was thinking about getting to know.
Things started to change in Junior High. (1960ish). The fall out of line and get hung out to dry clicks appeared. Guys and gals mostly formed into three groups: the hoods, the sport rats and the way smart what’s up with that group.
Now, the hoods were bad people because some of them smoked cigarettes and they often wore black shirts. (Really not kidding, and I could almost add, they chewed gum in school) The sport rats, the group I belonged to, never smoked cigarettes and we wore saddle shoes.
Clearly, these huge differences were cause for great concern and animosity. Oddly this huge division between the Hoods and Sport Rats meant the gals had to decide which group to belong to and those lines once drawn rarely, if ever, changed through High School. I once ,’hit it off,’ with a gal from the hoods in history class and we became fast buddies. But, when I suggested a soda, she told me, terrified, “Oh no, I could never do that. My group would go nuts. Plus, you don’t know what I do.” So, I realized she smoked cigarettes….sad.
It was an innocent time compared to the likes of today.
Of course, I was young, free to smell the dandelions as I ran across our neighbors’ yard. I was free to imagine that near about everything America stood for and did was good and right. I was free of a bombardment of contraptions that now give us real-time access to things that are happening beyond our sight!
Please, if you are semi-young, like under 40, Imagine this: there was no news until the six o’clock T.V. broadcast; there was no minute-by-minute news of your friends, no daily breaking political sirens. Even the stock market could rally or crash without a peep until evening. Every thing, every day, was on hold until evening. People went to work without worry or care about daily events until nighttime, until they’d gone home and had a cocktail, a smoke or rest.
In many ways, the multitasking, tied to your smart phone generation is cursed with too much information.
Call me old fashion? Maybe try hiking or camping and leaving, God forbid, your smart phone at home. There’s a world waiting for you to discover, one I grew up in, a world of be here now without interruption from things you can’t change anyway. There’s a world of freedom waiting for you but for one thing: you can’t put that smart phone down.
If the world today were to sculpt a representative statue of Mankind it wouldn’t be, The Thinker.
No, it would be a person looking down at their smart phone or taking a, ‘Selfie.’
The interactions that sooo many studies show are healthy for us—the eye contact, the smiles, the greetings—are now lost to bent heads looking at smart phones…
No, I’m not old fashion: I’m right. Put your phone down for at least one day per week and see how many eyes look your way. The worlds’ presence will once again be yours to see, and it is amazing.
Franque23 dares you to do it…
Simply amazing.
My wife recently told a news story on T.V. to “Go Fund Yourself.” It broke me out in fits of laughter….as my wife often does. She’s smart, a wit-full companion that keeps me thinkin’. Thing is, my first editor of everything you’ve ever read from me is also sharp, and more helpful than you know…. Barbara sent me this tonight,, and I thought in our time of strife it might do us all good to take a look at the,’Will to Survive’. It’s in all of us, to fight for existence, and that we shall prevail…just look at the trees: they lead the way.
Enjoy, and thanks again to Barbara for the link.
Peace, Franque23
Trees have been around for about 370 million years, and as you can see from these incredible pictures, there’s a good reason why they’ve survived for so long. Whether they’re growing in the middle of gale-force winds, on the tops of rocky platforms, inside concrete tunnels, or even growing out of each other, trees know how to survive in places that few living organisms can, which explains why the planet is host to around 3 trillion adult trees that cover an estimated 30% of the earth’s land. Considering that plants produce the vast majority of the oxygen that we breathe, we should all think ourselves very fortunate that trees are as resilient as they are. We wouldn’t even be here if they weren’t.
#1 A Place Of Enchantment
#2 This Palm Tree Fell Over And Curved Right Back Up
#3 This Tree Fell Over And Grew 4 More Trees Out Of Itself
#4 The Only Tree That Survived The Tsunami In Japan Between 70,000 Trees. Now Protected And Restored.
#5 Tree Of Life – Olympic National Park, Washington
#6 A Tree’s Root Spill Over The Sidewalk
#7 Nature FTW
#8 A Tree Growing Through Speed Limit Sign
#9 This Tree That Refuses To Die
#10 This Tree Still Has Its Leaves Because Of The Light Shining On It
#11 Life Finds A Way
#12 Tree Roots Extend Across A Gap To The Mainland For Nutrients
#13 Life Finds A Way
#14 Ta Promh Temple In Cambodia
#15 Striving
#16 Someone Hung His Skates On A Small Tree When He Was Younger. He Forgot He Had Left Them There And Found Them Years Later
#17 A Tree Growing On Another Tree
#18 This Tree Is Growing Out Of Another Tree
#19 This Tree Grew Out Of The Stump Of A Dead Tree And Then The Stump Rotted Away
#20 A Tree Grows From Third Floor Window
#21 Life Finds A Way
#22 I Spent Ages Staring At This Tree Before Taking This Pic. I Hope You Find It As Fascinating As I Did
#23 This Floating Island That Grew At The End Of A Partially Sunken Tree
#24 This Wooden Chair My Parents Bought Started Sprouting Leaves
#25 The Old Piano Tree
#27 One Tree On My Street Refused To Accept Winter
#28 My Sister’s Tree Is Eating Her Fence
#29 This Tree Growing Through A Fence
#30 Life,Uh… Finds A Way
This is the winning 2020 presidential ticket. In fact, the more Republicans and right of center groups claim this idea is preposterous, the more Left leaning voters should realize it’s true!
Trump’s election set precedent that a person not directly experienced with holding office can be elected President. The 2018 mid-terms have more than shown voters are agreeable to female candidates, and even female, Black candidates in the South!! Yikes! I wouldn’t have thought this to be the case, but it is. The 2018 mid-term election has proven the American electorate is ready for women of any faith or color. Now is the time for Michelle Obama.
We all know President Obama brought America out of the brink of collapse, along with perhaps saving the entire world economy, so who better to associate with how to truly Make America the shining beacon of hope and posterity it once was under President Obama? Michele Obama, that’s who can lead the charge in 2020. Michele is the one who can break through that invisible male ceiling the presidency of the U.S. still supports; she is the one who can unite and bring out so many difference Democratic voters.
And what of Bernie Sanders as V.P. on the ticket with Michelle Obama for 2020? This is a slam dunk yes! Bernie calls for a health plan most Americans have come to favor; Bernie calls for living wages and real tax cuts American workers deserve. Any notion that Bernie’s too old, or too socialist, or that, ‘Michelle won’t run,’ is just bull crap being thrown from the Right, a group who literally trembles in fear of this Democratic ticket.
Get Michelle and Bernie on the ticket and America wins.
Elect Michelle and Bernie and Education gets a huge increase in spending; America’s humanitarian efforts resume throughout the world; a living wage comes to fruition; real infrastructure rebuilding programs commence; renewable energy takes off in America and sparks a mass up-swing in employment and prosperity; health care becomes part of our society and not a leech upon on government and our worker’s backs. These are all things American’s want by massive majority numbers.
Get rid of illegal gerrymandering across America and the new world dawns through America’s growth and undeniable will to succeed.
Listen up. Cast fear aside and get Michelle and Bernie on the same ticket for 2020.
Let’s cast aside the party that has once again deregulated banks putting the U.S. in danger of another ,’bubble burst, ‘ as we had Under Bush . Jr. Let’s dump the party that has striped America of much-needed environmental controls, who now drills in our National Parks threatening our famous, Heritage sites. We can beat back Republican corruption and the radical hate groups this party embraces; we can end the hate mongering President Trump seems so happy to spew on a nearly daily basis. We can end the seemingly endless stream of lies now being forced upon the American people from this current Republican administration.
It’s a new day, baby. Democrats! Let’s bring it home.
Franque23
