(I have to admit that I get a little satisfaction in knowing that people will recognize you by that name.)
I was too upset to write yesterday and figured I’d probably get myself in trouble. Usually, I carefully weigh my wording to make sure I don’t cross lines or call you names that I shouldn't but the last couple of days, civility was not possible for me. Today, I’m writing because I can thank you for at least one thing.
The kids make fun of me because I take notes – when I read the news, watch television, talk on the phone . . . I do that for a couple of reasons. When I write something, I am more apt to remember it correctly. Also, I hate to trust my memory for details so the notes make me feel more secure about repeating what I’ve heard or read. However, thanks to you, today I was able to answer questions and make statements without my notes, or Google, or calling anyone for verification.
One guy asked: What kind of sociopath that already had millions of dollars would want more if the condition was millions of hungry elders? Who wants to live in a society where the old and poor are wandering the streets looking for cans or handouts?
I knew the answer without notes: Mitch McConnell!
Someone else suggested: Prayers really are answered.
“Absolutely not,” I was able to say without hesitation. “If that were true, Mitch McConnell’s tongue would have fallen out for lying, Sarah Palin would have gained at least 400 pounds (most of them in the form of warts on her face), and at least a couple of Republicans would have developed a conscience or accidentally spoken a truth.
“How can anyone be so heartless?” Someone tossed out on an internet site.
“Simple,” I typed. “Apparently, being born Mitch McConnell makes heartless simple.”
“Who could possibly think it’s a good idea to give tax breaks to the wealthiest and then deny a $250 pittance to those who depend on social security?”
“Mitch McConnell’s party,” I shouted.
And to think, a few months ago, there were actually people in this country who didn’t know who you are. I doubt that will happen again – ever.