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Posts Tagged ‘Kamala Harris’

Count the “I”s, not the “Lies,” Bill Clinton said.

One of so many moments that made me proud to be a Democrat, no, to be an American, last week watching the Democratic National Convention in Chicago. Everyone I spoke to felt the exact same way; like we were turning a corner on hate and division, like we were righteously taking back the flag, standing up for working men and women, for unions, for civil rights. For once, I felt the urgency of a woman who knew exactly what was at stake in the coming months. Kamala Harris said,

“(Trump) plans to create a national anti-abortion coordinator and force states to report on women’s miscarriages and abortions. Simply put, they are out of their minds.

Unlike the Republicans, the DNC delivered a hopeful message for our future, and now we have to act because November is right around the corner. But what can we do exactly? In order to win, we Dems need a three point margin because of the electoral college, but we need to win BIGLY, by maybe five points! I’m no longer knocking on doors, and I hate making phone calls, but I can pick up a pen! WRITE! The Bride and Groom have already had a ‘write and sign letters to swing states party.’ You can sign up to write and send postcards here: https://turnoutpac.org/postcards/

You could also buy merch, and be your own personal billboard. I’ve got a VOTE tee shirt with the letters made out of books and rainbows and even a uterus – but that’s not good enough. I need one of those hats with the comma followed by a “La.” Or maybe even a camo cap? We do need to take back the symbols of freedom and democracy that the GOP co-opted, I want to hang an American flag by my front door and put up a Harris-Walz sign on the lawn! You know, next to the “Hate has no place in our neighborhood” sign.

Did you know that the Second Gentleman’s daughter, Ella Emhoff, has been ridiculed by Mr T’s followers? What those cult followers didn’t know is that Ella is an artist and a model, and if I’m reading her correctly, she could care less what they think.

Ms. Emhoff, a textile artist and knitwear designer, has become known for her style since she first grabbed national attention during the inauguration of President Biden in 2021 sporting an embellished plaid Miu Miu coat on the steps of the Capitol…. On the first night of the convention, Ms. Emhoff wore cream trousers and a drapey top from Helmut Lang topped with a camouflage hat with “Harris Walz” emblazoned on it in neon orange letters. The sold-out hat has become a popular piece of campaign merchandise in recent weeks. (She also posted photos from that evening, including a shot of Tim Walz’s children putting up bunny ear fingers behind their unknowing dad’s head during an interview with NBC’s Jacob Soboroff.)” https://www.nytimes.com/2024/08/22/style/ella-emhoff-dnc-harris.html

My first reaction was hooray, they’re not bashing Kamala Harris’ pantsuits. And my second reaction was how dare they go after Ella after Ann Coulter’s malicious remarks about Walz’ son Gus. I thought a candidate’s child was off-limits. I remember how Chelsea Clinton was maligned for her curly hair and braces, so when Ella talked about her step-mom coming into her life when she was 14, I could relate. I was a young teen when the Flapper married my stepfather, a Judge in our town. I was going from an only-child home into a birth family with five siblings and two step-siblings. Talk about culture shock.

The Bug celebrated her 12th birthday this past weekend. She’s entering the wonder years of adolescence and my mission as her Nana is to be a safe place to fall. We can always bake muffins and string jewelry over here.The Rocker and Aunt Kiki gave her Taylor Swift tickets, she had a spa day with all her friends at her house with all the skin products, and yesterday she scored the winning points in her school’s volleyball game! 7th Grade is looking pretty darn good so far.

And so is this election – last week was a game changer. Here are my Virgo Bimbies (kiddos in Italian)!

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I remember when Great Grandma Ada broke my ribs.

We were in Target and she was newly arrived in Nashville; she was rolling along nicely on a motorized red shopping cart, heading towards shorts for Hudson. Suddenly, instead of going backwards, she plowed right into me. I found myself on the floor covered in clothes with red shirted people gathering and gawking. My chest hurt and a foot was aching too, but I managed to walk out of there and straight into an urgent care.

After looking at my chest Xray, the doctor apologized for not being able to prescribe more narcotics! The law had just changed in TN, and the government was trying to control the opioid epidemic by limiting the number of pills a physician could give his/her patient. It wasn’t the first time a doctor had apologized to me for some aspect of care gone wrong – a spinal tap done on my newborn, the path lab mess after an amniocentesis, the West Nile conjunctivitis diagnosis. You can see why I am a skeptical healthcare consumer.

I’ve been thinking about this since I read that two doctors were charged in Matthew Perry’s ketamine overdose death. DO NO HARM takes on new meaning when it pertains to drug addicts. Addiction has touched just about every family I know, including my own. For years we didn’t know where Bob’s middle brother was living, and by the time we intervened and got him into rehab it was too late. He left a couple of days later and died of an overdose just a month before the Rocker’s Bar Mitzvah. He was the sweetest of three brothers, but he was caught in the trap of our medical community with its rules and regs around methadone and a secret underbelly of drug dealers.

And btw, read Barbara Kingsolver’s book “Demon Copperhead” if you’d like to understand Appalachia and the scourge of drug addiction. JD Vance’s book doesn’t hold a candle to Demon.

The Bride told me that ketamine, on its own, would not usually result in death, that Perry’s death was most likely caused by being in a hot tub while also taking a cocktail of drugs including ketamine. Emergency physicians may use ketamine while doing surgical procedures. It supposedly produces a dissociative experience, or as my daughter demonstrated with a whirl of her arms, “The mind separates from the body.” Psychiatrists have started using the drug in treating depression. But why someone would think it was a good idea to abuse ketamine is beyond me, then again, I don’t have an addictive personality… unless you count shoe shopping.

In a combined public and private effort, we have made a dent in the numbers of drug overdoses in our country. By taking drug manufacturers to court, smarter foreign policy measures, enforcing policy at home by stressing treatment, and limiting a doctor’s ability to prescribe narcotics, and of course the availability of over-the-counter Narcan we may be turning a corner. We have life-saving Narcan nasal spray in our house, do you? Oh, and legalizing marijuana nationally would probably help as well.

The new data show overdose deaths involving opioids decreased from an estimated 84,181 in 2022 to 81,083 in 2023. While overdose deaths from synthetic opioids (primarily fentanyl) decreased in 2023 compared to 2022, cocaine and psychostimulants (like methamphetamine) increased.https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/pressroom/nchs_press_releases/2024/20240515.htm

But this all came too late for my brother-in-law.

I spent an hour this past week getting an infusion of Reclast, a bone strengthening drug in the hospital. I sat in a plushy recliner and contemplated the beautiful, verdant landscape outside the picture windows. Except for the occasional bleep from the machine, it was blessedly quiet. Bob sat beside me reading his book on his phone, occasionally the nurse would come in to check on me. Medicare paid for this treatment…

Still, most insurers will not pay for treating the disease of addiction. We are a puritanical country and we expect people to “pull themselves up by their own boot straps.” But this would be like telling me to build my own bones, or telling a diabetic patient to watch what they eat. I read this morning that Matthew Perry paid $55,000 for 20 vials of ketamine. All of his enablers should be held accountable.

And maybe we should all learn to live with a little pain. Yesterday I went to the first Bug’s volleyball game of the season and got hit in the face with a ball during warm-up. My glasses went flying off and I found myself surrounded by kids asking me if I was alright. The Pumpkin and his friends sat in front of me for the rest of the game, my guardians against incoming fouls. Of course, I didn’t cry, until last night’s opening salvo for the DNC.

Also my pearl stringing for Kamala is coming along. Night Night DT

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I stood up clapping and yelling in my empty office after Kamala Harris spoke to an empty auditorium in Delaware on Wednesday. It was her first time appearing with Joe Biden as his running mate, and I was on pins and needles waiting for them. When she said the case against Mr T was “…open and shut,” I swooned. When she called our Toddler-in-Chief a whiner, I Tweeted; then I followed her husband – possibly the first ever Second Gentleman – on every social media platform!

When Kamala said, “I’ve had a lot of titles over my career and certainly vice president will be great, but ‘Momala’ will always be the one that means the most,” I got it.  I’m pretty sure only Italians and Jewish people use Momala as a token of endearment. She married Doug Emhoff, an entertainment lawyer, in 2014 and her two step-children started calling her Momala. Great Grandma Ada, who btw I’ve called Momala for years, called me up to tell me Emhoff was from Brooklyn; and then I read that Kamala broke a glass at their wedding to honor his tradition.

Wait, I misspoke. I wasn’t entirely alone watching Kamala on CNN. Ms Bean had been napping peacefully on her bed, only slightly medicated because of those pesky afternoon  thunderstorms, when my cheering started. I guess I must have been jumping around too much because she joined in with ferocity, barking and climbing up on me. She hasn’t seen me that excited in almost six months, or maybe even four years.

The Flapper was a realist when it came to politicians. Except for the great FDR, I remember her saying, “They’re all crooks.” But my foster parents were dyed-in-the-wool Democrats. I remember them getting dressed up to vote at night after Daddy Jim came home from work. And try as I might, they’d never say who they voted for, although it was pretty clear to me that they voted a straight line Democratic ticket.

After all, the Democrats were for the “working man,” the great “middle class.” I was also told the Irish vote blue, so there ya go. And once Kennedy, the first Irish Catholic president was elected and later assassinated when I was just 15 years old, my tribal loyalties were sealed in stone. McGovern was my first presidential vote, and I’m still proud of it to this day.

Many Dems I know felt discouraged after voting for Hillary in 2016 and watching the electoral college – a holdover from the southern slave states – trample our desire for a woman president. Discouraged and depressed. But this time there is something in the air. Systemic racism has crawled out of the shadows, and sitting on a fence for this election is simply unacceptable. Thanks to this administration, the American people will be asked to make a choice:

Continue running our government into the ground, chipping away at affordable healthcare during a global pandemic, and ignoring the economic plight of our people? Should we vote for a man who has single-handedly destroyed our trust in institutions like the Post Office and makes a mockery of the Justice Department? Or shall we vote for a return to truth and dignity with a Biden/Harris ticket?

She broke a piece of crystal under her heel at her wedding, and she will be the one to shatter the glass ceiling. Painting of Wonder Woman by Ashley Longshore.

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