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Lima beans. Canned asparagus. Polished stones. Lint I've collected from the dryer in my home for the last month or so. Wheat pennies. Buffalo nickels. Loaves of pumpernickel bread. Bone-handled pocket knives. Names of those whom my family have loved, buried, long dead. Most of these things, I’ve no problem with. Some I remember fondly, some I collect, some I eat, others don’t really matter at all. We enjoy the things that we enjoy. While we’re here, we do our best. Most everything else is insignificant, of little consequence in our lives. Certainly less so, than our children, ourselves, neighbors, our friends, our husbands, or our wives. Why then, dear ones, do we natter and fret so much? We hem and haw, wring our hands stressing over things like lunch, a mask, or inequality in society, usually blaming The Orangutan currently occupying The Oval Office; certainly occupying more than his fair share of our collective consciousness. We’ve forgotten how to forget, how to let it go, doing the best that we are able, where we are, with what we have. We must remember ourselves, our values, our votes. Because, apathy or laziness lost 2016 for all of us, whether we believe it or not. So, I plan to remember, emphatically, unequivocally, unimpeachably, who I am, where I come from, what matters to me more than anything else. One One Zero Three The year, two-thousand twenty. You are you. I am I. We are we. History, our legacy, our democracy, our liberty is at stake. These reside in our hands always, being more important than canned asparagus, polished stones, or a pocketful of wheat pennies. Specifically, especially so, on eleven-three-twenty-twenty. *** -JBClaywell ©P&ZPublications 2020
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Nov 2, 2020
Nov 2, 2020 at 5:56 PM UTC
One. One. Zero. Three.
Lima beans. Canned asparagus. Polished stones. Lint I've collected from the dryer in my home for the last month or so. Wheat pennies. Buffalo nickels. Loaves of pumpernickel bread. Bone-handled pocket knives. Names of those whom my family have loved, buried, long dead. Most of these things, I’ve no problem with. Some I remember fondly, some I collect, some I eat, others don’t really matter at all. We enjoy the things that we enjoy. While we’re here, we do our best. Most everything else is insignificant, of little consequence in our lives. Certainly less so, than our children, ourselves, neighbors, our friends, our husbands, or our wives. Why then, dear ones, do we natter and fret so much? We hem and haw, wring our hands stressing over things like lunch, a mask, or inequality in society, usually blaming The Orangutan currently occupying The Oval Office; certainly occupying more than his fair share of our collective consciousness. We’ve forgotten how to forget, how to let it go, doing the best that we are able, where we are, with what we have. We must remember ourselves, our values, our votes. Because, apathy or laziness lost 2016 for all of us, whether we believe it or not. So, I plan to remember, emphatically, unequivocally, unimpeachably, who I am, where I come from, what matters to me more than anything else. One One Zero Three The year, two-thousand twenty. You are you. I am I. We are we. History, our legacy, our democracy, our liberty is at stake. These reside in our hands always, being more important than canned asparagus, polished stones, or a pocketful of wheat pennies. Specifically, especially so, on eleven-three-twenty-twenty. *** -JBClaywell ©P&ZPublications 2020
#vote
jay-claywell
Written by
jay-claywell
45/M
Nov 2, 2020
Nov 2, 2020 at 5:56 PM UTC
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