How many CEOs will feel the “pain” of lowering their yearly salaries by a million or two? How many corporations will have to feel the “pain” of having to start paying taxes on their profits? How many corporate jet pilots will be out of a job?
None. None. None.
How many senior citizens will have to worry about their benefits? How many recipients of social services may have to do without, after they’ve already done without (and therefore found themselves in need of social services)? How many sick people may not get their treatments? How many, how many, how many….?
Hundreds? Thousands? Tens of thousands?
I spit on the Tea Party and all that it represents.
At first glance, I may appear to be a middle-aged American woman with kids, grandkids, retired from a job in a hospital, gratefully relieved from the responsibilities that come with all of that. Behind the image, which is true enough, I am fairly unhinged from much of American mainstream living, having spent twelve years in Saudi Arabia, years that sprung me from societal and familial impositions, and narrow bands of truth. I have learned to embrace my identity as a seeker, an artist, and a writer.
I study Arabic and Italian language, because I love them, and I love their people. I still dream of spending more time in the Middle East and Italy, though the dreaming now seems more real than the possibilities. I am a photographer. I write, and sometimes publish, flash memoir, and now a blog or two.
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