Ramblin' Man
03/04/19 18:26
There is something particularly queer going on with Joe Biden. The pictures floating around on the internet, in their totality, paint a very bizarre and sick picture of the man who aspires to be elected president in 2020 on the democrat ticket. He's a long time political hack, an occasional plagiarist, and a man who when he last ran for the presidency in 2008 couldn't garner more than 1% of the vote in Iowa during the primary season. He now stands heads and shoulders above his fellow democrats in the national polls as he contemplates entering the presidential race to oust Donald J. Trump in 2020.
The best way to understand this so-called fascination with "Uncle" Joe is by comparing him to his competitors in the race who are admitted socialists and who have promised and continue to promise everything under the sun to their individual constituencies. Their promises run the gamut and include everything from abolishing the electoral college and those who would protect our borders (ICE) to guaranteeing free college and reparations that are long overdue to generations of slave descendants.
It is only by comparing the policies of these leftists to "Uncle" Joe's professed centrist stance on many of the pivotal issues of the day that gives hope to the democrat party that he, Joe Biden, more than any other candidate in the running, can beat Donald J. Trump. It is their further hope that the man who originally hails from Scranton, PA can now bring the state of Pennsylvania along with other mid western states back into the democrat column after Trump turned them decidedly red in 2016.
But the pictures are devastating. He's seemingly groping and fondling every female that he can get his hands on and in plain site for the entire world to see. It's one thing to rub the shoulders of a women in her fifties and quite another to cozy up in a creepy way to a prepubescent child while the cameras are rolling. One can only imagine what he is capable of once he is off the stage and out of the public eye. God forbid.
Word has it that it is perhaps the Sanders campaign that is taking advantage of the #MeToo movement to knock Joe out of the race before he even gets in. He and Sanders are the only candidates either in or out of the race that have more than 10% of the public opinion polls at present. That could change if "Uncle" Joe decides against running. I'm guessing Trump would relish running against Sanders were Sanders to get the nomination and Trump would probably take 49 out of 50 states.
Personally, I don't get Sanders. He's an old fart closing in on eighty years old and he looks to be suffering from some sort of scoliosis of the spine if we're to glean anything from looking at his posture while standing at the podium. He regularly rails against the corrupt practices of the corporate elite while taking their contributions behind the scenes. His ideology is more closely aligned with Castro and other South American strongmen like Maduro than it is with the precepts as laid out by our founding fathers. In short, he hates America and everything it stands for.
That being the case, where do all these haters who follow him to rally after rally come from? What instititions over time gave rise to this kind of group-think? Since when did our history become so malleable in the eyes of so many such that they would sooner overthrow our existing government than tolerate it for another second. We've had one civil war in this country, we don't need another.
Maybe Trump is but a proxy for everything they hate about our current form of government. Were it not Trump, it would be someone else. After Obama, the leftist really did believe that Hillary would extend the policies of the left and they were devastated when Trump won the election. We who don't and never will subscribe to this socialist nonsense continue to see Trump as our firewall against the left. Every day he is in office reminds us, as Obama proudly proclaimed time after time during his tenure, that elections have consequences. In other words, it's our turn.
Whew! Didn't mean to get off on a tangent. Evan has officially dubbed his new place "The Eagles Nest." Who doesn't like a fourth floor spot? No one above you and only one apartment on one side of you. The other side sports a utility closet and a small laundry room. We've not seen anyone in the laundry room the 4 or 5 times we've been over there so far so it's hard to tell what noise, smells, vibrations, or anything else might emanate from the room when it is in use.
I have a good mind to go put a few quarters in one of the two the dryers that are on the opposite side of the wall from the space that will serve as Evan's bedroom just to see if there is any residual anything affecting his "experience."
We've been bringing things over to his apartment slowly but surely. It's almost like we're building it out with this and that since he didn't have much to begin with in terms of all the things he needs to make the place his own. We're talking pots and pans, vacuum cleaners, dishes, etc. Since there is no bed there and plans to bring over an air mattress just haven't panned out, we're on the hunt for a bed and a bed frame.
We bought a bed yesterday, and no we didn't a get a foam mattress, and I can tell you he is pretty excited about having something to sleep on other than the extended twin he's had since high school.
Getting him out and about to lay on a few mattresses was a bit of a chore not nothing too serious. He was looking for something firm but not too firm and it seemed that the plush tops were too squishy for his tastes so when that goldilocks moment came we seized the moment and arranged for prompt delivery.
Bed frames are a different story. They run the gamut to be sure. Most seem too ornate. We're thinking, as is he, that spartan-like is best so I'm looking on Amazon this morning. We'd like to have the frame in place before we take delivery of the mattress so time is of the essence.
Once the bed is there he'll be staying in his apartment full time. I'm guessing we're a week away from that moment. We spent a few hours there a few days ago having his internet service installed so that's a done deal. He's pleased as punch with his new Sony TV and his concern at this point is that his television not be too low and not too high against the wall.
Since the TV will not be attached to the wall, the height of the entertainment center is the key to getting it right. I'm not sure how we solve that problem but solve it we will and we'll then move on to the next issue at hand.
We stopped by his apartment yesterday on our way back from Manchester where we looked at all kinds of things in Boston Interiors. It wasn't long before we heard a train off in the distance. Not the rumbling of a train going down the tracks, mind you, but rather the mid-afternoon punctuation of a series of steam whistles signaling departure or arrival from the station in town.
"Oh, Evan", declared his mother with a muted smile. "Did you hear that"? It wasn't loud enough or near enough to be annoying so anything short of annoying when it comes to all things trains is a good thing. Nancy always gets a little misty eyed when it comes to trains so the whistling of the train in the distance may well have been providential if only in that moment.
We told Evan to be sure to introduce himself to his neighbors when given half a chance. Oddly enough, we've run into one of his fourth floor neighbors every time we've been over there. She's an odd sort she is. Truth be told she looks to be something of a bag lady. She is pleasant enough and was engaging from the start when we first held the door open for her while she carried her groceries into the entrance of the apartment building.
More recently, I helped her move her cart filled with bottles of this and that through the entranceway and into the building. She complained in a kind hearted way that two gentlemen just stood by with while she struggled with her cart which had broken making it difficult at best to maneuver. It was clearly beyond her capability given both the weight of the bottles that she was trying to move and the condition of the cart so I told Evan to wait in the car while I wheeled her cart onto the elevator and up to the fourth floor.
I painstakingly tried my best not to pay attention to the contents of her cart which were by any ordinary standard not ordinary at all. It was a jumble of bottles with labels the likes of which I made a great effort not to read or understand. I couldn't decide if I was aiding and abetting a hoarder or a hypochondriac or both.
She prattled on incessantly but I paid little attention to her musings and was thankful that the cart was holding up in splendid fashion as we neared her fourth floor unit. She seemed appreciative of the effort I was making on her behalf and I was more than happy to restore what little faith she had in her fellow man after interacting with the two men who had failed to come to her aid. I wasn't sure what men she was referring to exactly since I never actually laid eyes on them. Perhaps it was a leap of faith on my part to believe that she was telling me the truth but we'll leave it at that.
I had decided long before reaching her doorstep that I was not going to leave her and her cart in the hallway without seeing to it that she was safely and comfortably in her unit. I couldn't tell if she was at all reluctant to allow me into her apartment but I think she thought the better of not allowing me in and in I went cart and all. After all, she had offered to show Evan and I her two bedroom unit when we first met her so I guessed correctly that my going into her unit was not an anxiety provoking experience for her one way or another.
It's neither here nor there but I did notice when I walked through her doorway that one of her two bedrooms was chock full of exercise equipment. I've never seen a bag lady on a treadmill so I'm reluctant to draw too many conclusions but suffice it to say it was out of character with what little I knew of this woman. Besides, since when does a hoarder worth his or her salt hoard exercise equipment? And then she starts to go on and on about her son who lives in a nearby town and, according to her, is not yet married (with a sigh.)
The best way to understand this so-called fascination with "Uncle" Joe is by comparing him to his competitors in the race who are admitted socialists and who have promised and continue to promise everything under the sun to their individual constituencies. Their promises run the gamut and include everything from abolishing the electoral college and those who would protect our borders (ICE) to guaranteeing free college and reparations that are long overdue to generations of slave descendants.
It is only by comparing the policies of these leftists to "Uncle" Joe's professed centrist stance on many of the pivotal issues of the day that gives hope to the democrat party that he, Joe Biden, more than any other candidate in the running, can beat Donald J. Trump. It is their further hope that the man who originally hails from Scranton, PA can now bring the state of Pennsylvania along with other mid western states back into the democrat column after Trump turned them decidedly red in 2016.
But the pictures are devastating. He's seemingly groping and fondling every female that he can get his hands on and in plain site for the entire world to see. It's one thing to rub the shoulders of a women in her fifties and quite another to cozy up in a creepy way to a prepubescent child while the cameras are rolling. One can only imagine what he is capable of once he is off the stage and out of the public eye. God forbid.
Word has it that it is perhaps the Sanders campaign that is taking advantage of the #MeToo movement to knock Joe out of the race before he even gets in. He and Sanders are the only candidates either in or out of the race that have more than 10% of the public opinion polls at present. That could change if "Uncle" Joe decides against running. I'm guessing Trump would relish running against Sanders were Sanders to get the nomination and Trump would probably take 49 out of 50 states.
Personally, I don't get Sanders. He's an old fart closing in on eighty years old and he looks to be suffering from some sort of scoliosis of the spine if we're to glean anything from looking at his posture while standing at the podium. He regularly rails against the corrupt practices of the corporate elite while taking their contributions behind the scenes. His ideology is more closely aligned with Castro and other South American strongmen like Maduro than it is with the precepts as laid out by our founding fathers. In short, he hates America and everything it stands for.
That being the case, where do all these haters who follow him to rally after rally come from? What instititions over time gave rise to this kind of group-think? Since when did our history become so malleable in the eyes of so many such that they would sooner overthrow our existing government than tolerate it for another second. We've had one civil war in this country, we don't need another.
Maybe Trump is but a proxy for everything they hate about our current form of government. Were it not Trump, it would be someone else. After Obama, the leftist really did believe that Hillary would extend the policies of the left and they were devastated when Trump won the election. We who don't and never will subscribe to this socialist nonsense continue to see Trump as our firewall against the left. Every day he is in office reminds us, as Obama proudly proclaimed time after time during his tenure, that elections have consequences. In other words, it's our turn.
Whew! Didn't mean to get off on a tangent. Evan has officially dubbed his new place "The Eagles Nest." Who doesn't like a fourth floor spot? No one above you and only one apartment on one side of you. The other side sports a utility closet and a small laundry room. We've not seen anyone in the laundry room the 4 or 5 times we've been over there so far so it's hard to tell what noise, smells, vibrations, or anything else might emanate from the room when it is in use.
I have a good mind to go put a few quarters in one of the two the dryers that are on the opposite side of the wall from the space that will serve as Evan's bedroom just to see if there is any residual anything affecting his "experience."
We've been bringing things over to his apartment slowly but surely. It's almost like we're building it out with this and that since he didn't have much to begin with in terms of all the things he needs to make the place his own. We're talking pots and pans, vacuum cleaners, dishes, etc. Since there is no bed there and plans to bring over an air mattress just haven't panned out, we're on the hunt for a bed and a bed frame.
We bought a bed yesterday, and no we didn't a get a foam mattress, and I can tell you he is pretty excited about having something to sleep on other than the extended twin he's had since high school.
Getting him out and about to lay on a few mattresses was a bit of a chore not nothing too serious. He was looking for something firm but not too firm and it seemed that the plush tops were too squishy for his tastes so when that goldilocks moment came we seized the moment and arranged for prompt delivery.
Bed frames are a different story. They run the gamut to be sure. Most seem too ornate. We're thinking, as is he, that spartan-like is best so I'm looking on Amazon this morning. We'd like to have the frame in place before we take delivery of the mattress so time is of the essence.
Once the bed is there he'll be staying in his apartment full time. I'm guessing we're a week away from that moment. We spent a few hours there a few days ago having his internet service installed so that's a done deal. He's pleased as punch with his new Sony TV and his concern at this point is that his television not be too low and not too high against the wall.
Since the TV will not be attached to the wall, the height of the entertainment center is the key to getting it right. I'm not sure how we solve that problem but solve it we will and we'll then move on to the next issue at hand.
We stopped by his apartment yesterday on our way back from Manchester where we looked at all kinds of things in Boston Interiors. It wasn't long before we heard a train off in the distance. Not the rumbling of a train going down the tracks, mind you, but rather the mid-afternoon punctuation of a series of steam whistles signaling departure or arrival from the station in town.
"Oh, Evan", declared his mother with a muted smile. "Did you hear that"? It wasn't loud enough or near enough to be annoying so anything short of annoying when it comes to all things trains is a good thing. Nancy always gets a little misty eyed when it comes to trains so the whistling of the train in the distance may well have been providential if only in that moment.
We told Evan to be sure to introduce himself to his neighbors when given half a chance. Oddly enough, we've run into one of his fourth floor neighbors every time we've been over there. She's an odd sort she is. Truth be told she looks to be something of a bag lady. She is pleasant enough and was engaging from the start when we first held the door open for her while she carried her groceries into the entrance of the apartment building.
More recently, I helped her move her cart filled with bottles of this and that through the entranceway and into the building. She complained in a kind hearted way that two gentlemen just stood by with while she struggled with her cart which had broken making it difficult at best to maneuver. It was clearly beyond her capability given both the weight of the bottles that she was trying to move and the condition of the cart so I told Evan to wait in the car while I wheeled her cart onto the elevator and up to the fourth floor.
I painstakingly tried my best not to pay attention to the contents of her cart which were by any ordinary standard not ordinary at all. It was a jumble of bottles with labels the likes of which I made a great effort not to read or understand. I couldn't decide if I was aiding and abetting a hoarder or a hypochondriac or both.
She prattled on incessantly but I paid little attention to her musings and was thankful that the cart was holding up in splendid fashion as we neared her fourth floor unit. She seemed appreciative of the effort I was making on her behalf and I was more than happy to restore what little faith she had in her fellow man after interacting with the two men who had failed to come to her aid. I wasn't sure what men she was referring to exactly since I never actually laid eyes on them. Perhaps it was a leap of faith on my part to believe that she was telling me the truth but we'll leave it at that.
I had decided long before reaching her doorstep that I was not going to leave her and her cart in the hallway without seeing to it that she was safely and comfortably in her unit. I couldn't tell if she was at all reluctant to allow me into her apartment but I think she thought the better of not allowing me in and in I went cart and all. After all, she had offered to show Evan and I her two bedroom unit when we first met her so I guessed correctly that my going into her unit was not an anxiety provoking experience for her one way or another.
It's neither here nor there but I did notice when I walked through her doorway that one of her two bedrooms was chock full of exercise equipment. I've never seen a bag lady on a treadmill so I'm reluctant to draw too many conclusions but suffice it to say it was out of character with what little I knew of this woman. Besides, since when does a hoarder worth his or her salt hoard exercise equipment? And then she starts to go on and on about her son who lives in a nearby town and, according to her, is not yet married (with a sigh.)