Snapshot #37

I call this one, taken inside a bathroom stall inside the Gulfarium at Ft. Walton Beach, FL, “FYI.”

In This Election: Politics Is Personal

Jan Wilberg brilliantly nailed the conflict. Read more at redswrap.wordpress.com.

Jan Wilberg's avatarRed's Wrap

jan-purple-2The presidential election is painful for a lot of us girls.

First of all, we’re conflict averse. Oh, we understand conflict and can wield a sharp sword but it’s on the silent battlefield where we win. Articulated conflict is upsetting, especially those of us of a certain age. So our response is borrowed from men who seem to us to have successfully managed disputes. “You drive like a man,” a male friend once said to me as I maneuvered my car around the turns of a five-story parking ramp. I took it as a compliment.

I am known as a person with strong opinions but I have thrown unopened letters in the trash if I believed them to contain harsh words. I’ve deleted emails sent in retort to something critical I said to someone. One would say I can dish it out but not take it. That’s something my father would say…

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“That Makes Me Smart”

It is white collar crime! Read more at alotfromlydia.wordpress.com.

alotfromlydia's avatarA lot from Lydia

“I have been under audit for almost fifteen years. I know a lot of wealthy people that have never been audited. I said do you get audited? I get audited almost every year.” ~ Donald Trump

Maybe that’s because other people pay taxes.

I have often complained about my personal experience as an employee who works for a major corporation that used this country’s flawed bankruptcy laws as a business strategy. The company I work for had billions of dollars in assets at the time it filed. That a viable company can manipulate bankruptcy laws that were clearly not intended for that purpose was eye opening for me. Why would they do it? Filing allowed the corporation I work for to bust union contracts, cut salaries 30%, decimate retiree benefits, renege on promises of fully funded pensions, it allowed them to break contracts with vendors, and they reaped a multitude…

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Close Encounters of the Arnold Palmer Kind

As I listened to one celebrity after another pay tribute to the recently deceased golfer, Arnold Palmer, yesterday afternoon, I recalled my own brief encounter with this legend of the links. 

For Christmas one year I’d purchased club house passes for Studly Doright and my dad to Arnie’s Bay Hill tournament in Orlando, FL. We lived in Melbourne, FL, at the time, so we were only an hour away from the course. I have to confess that when I purchased the tickets a part of me was secretly hoping that I’d get to attend at least one day of the tournament. As it happened I ended up using the passes more than Studly and Daddy did. 

Now, I’m not a golfer. I’m the furthest thing from a golfer anyone could possibly imagine. But I grew up watching the great golfers on television with my dad, and Arnold Palmer almost seemed like a member of the family. So much so that when he walked up beside me as I sat in the lower stands on the tenth hole at Bay Hill and took a banana from a bowl near the tee box that I just smiled and nodded and he smiled and winked back before teeing off.

It wasn’t until later that it hit me I’d been in the presence of greatness. In retrospect I wish I’d said something witty or golfy, but maybe, just maybe he thought to himself, “That was one cool chick. I should have offered her part of my banana.” We will never know. 

Snapshot #33

My newest t-shirt! I call this one, “Thanks Studly for My Early Birthday Present!”

Stalking Jack the Ripper

This sounds fun. Gruesome and fun. Read more at yourdaughtersbookshelf.wordpress.com

yourdaughtersbookshelf's avataryourdaughtersbookshelf

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I have been waiting and waiting for this novel to come out, and was so afraid it wouldn’t live up to my expectations. Not only is the cover stunning, that incredible first sentence grabs you and won’t let go for the rest of the novel.

17-year-old Audrey Rose Wadsworth wants to be a scientist. Specifically, a forensic scientist, helping Scotland Yard solve murders and various crimes though post mortem examination of victims. The trouble is, Audrey Rose is the daughter of a lord in 1880’s London, and she should be attending teas and social outings, not cutting into dead bodies and searching for clues on the trail of vicious killers.

Her father has been teetering on the edge of insanity since the death of her mother five years before, while her brother flits from one area of interest to the next, all the while living the high life befitting that of a lord’s son. Her…

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