Three things I never leave home without: Strunk & White’s The Elements of Style, my Rand McNally pocket atlas and a sample ballot for the next election printed on recycled card stock. These things matter greatly.
Listen, I don’t always vote for winners. But I’ll never vote for a chump.
I vote for dogs and puppies locked up in cages in Holmes County. I vote for farmers. I vote for the homeless, the wrongfully incarcerated, the disenfranchised pot dealers, the artists, the LGBTQ brothers and sisters, the kids, the Jewish families in Squirrel Hill and beyond, the disabled, the opioid addicts, the lonely, the forlorn, the lovesick, the crestfallen, the poor and hungry. I vote for clean air and public lands. I vote for the trees.
Shit, I rarely vote for the winners. But this county loves its chump business executives, huh? The ones standing behind the chump politico bastards they see on TV? They adore ’em. It’s a lascivious religion. What’s the use, though? What’s the point?
Seems to me that’s the central question this week. Not so much “Who’s side are you on?” But rather: “Who are you helping?”
Sandy 